#but id fold for him SO QUICK

[kechiwrites]

a lil angsty addition to toxic bd!ghost. ghost loves his son terribly but if he was being honest, the only reason he was conceived was so simon could have a forever hold on the reader. he loves them so much but thinks that without a reason, the reader wouldn’t stay with him forever. he believes that now no matter what, the reader has a reason to stick with him even if he pisses them off to the point where she never wants to see him again. he doesn’t know that reader would’ve stuck with him regardless, with a baby or without, all bc they love him so much. also could i be known as👩🏿‍🍼 anon lmao

first off! you're my first emoji anon 🥹

secondly, you are so right. with his past, there's no way ghost would've chosen to be a father and eventually we'll see exactly how he responded when reader told him (spoiler alert: he didn't take it well). she loved him when they were together no question but simon doesn't think he's worthy of love (and now reader agrees lmao). initially he wanted to be in his son's life only as a way to stay attached to reader. and if she ever found that shit out, i don't think she'd ever forgive him for using their kid that way. (nevermind that reader's using tommy to keep ghost at a distance in the first place)

[ecxlipse]

i am beyond repentance

shout out to the tuna team for fuelling my brainrot, cos i prolly wouldn't have created this or posted it if it wasn't for them <33 🐟

[omgeto]

☆ WHEN YOU HAVE SEX WITH YOUR PROFESSOR — NANAMI, TOJI, GETO, GOJO.

summary: you have sex with your professor. for many different reasons.

wc: 4.2k (each of these were meant to be 500 words long so idk what happened)

cw: smutty smut afab!reader who's in university, mutual masturbation, spanking, semi public sex, toji is not a professor but a gym coach who rails you in a supply closet, but theres a lot of sex on a lot of desks so mdni.

an: theres actually a smidge of plot in this just a tiny bit if you do a deep squint, but the smut id personally say is my best yet. so give it a chance people, but come for the smut stay for the dialogue. hope you enjoy! not proofread ignore mistakes pls

☆ NANAMI

nanami kento, was the strictest teacher you have ever had. you couldn’t get away with your usual tricks that you did with some of your other professors — strutting past their office during office hours in your skimpiest clothes to get a better grade. it was as if nanami was immune to all your devices.

but with a big exam coming up, you knew you had to make something happen since studying was not your forte. so you were prepared to do anything to get that A.

“come in," his deep voice calls from inside.

as you enter his office, you are met with the sight of your professor, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, reviewing a stack of papers. he glances up at you briefly before returning his attention to his work.

"what can I help you with?" he ask, his tone professional.

“i wanted to see if we could talk about the exam you set for us tomorrow,” you start to say, his eyes still focused on his papers, not sparing you a glance. “i was thinking we could figure out a way for me to get extra credit… sir.” 

you had his attention now. technically you’ve always had his attention — yes nanami was different to all the other professors you’ve ever had but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t a man at the end of the day. 

he always noticed the way you’d sit in his classroom, your pouty mouth always gnawing at your pencil as you never had a clue what was going on. nanami always had to hide his dick feeling tight in his trousers whenever you walk into his classroom. little did you know that you actually would’ve failed his class a long time ago, but because he just couldn’t let go of the sight of how your pretty tits bounce everytime you raise your hand, he always made you pass. 

“well what are you willing to do for that extra credit?” he says, his tone slightly amused.

“whatever you want” you respond a bit too eagerly, you were coming onto him hard. but it was working, you could already see the crack in his usual stoic facade. “c’mon professor nanami, i need to pass this class,” you practically beg. 

“oh yeah, you definitely need to pass this exam, you’re one more failed exam to flunking my whole class,” he affirms — lying through his teeth. “so i think you should come sit up here, and show me what you’re willing to do huh.”

suddenly, you start to feel nervous. usually you’d have control of the situation, you’d flaunt your ass, fuck your teacher and get an A, easily. but this time, you could see in nanami’s eyes that from when you entered his office — that he was running the show.

you saunter over his desk, and he pushes his seat back allowing you to have room to perch on his desk in front of him. “take off your shirt,” he commands, and you’re quick to fling off your top — that was barely covering anything anyways, “wow no bra, why am i not surprised.” he stares at your hardened nipples smirking as he continues to say, “you know i see your nipples peeking at me through your shit all the time in class.”

“really?” you question coyly.

“you don’t think i see how you practically fuck yourself in your seat when i’m doing a reading,” he continues, his arms folding as if he was telling you off, “a bit disrespectful, right?”

“no i-it’s just i really like the sound of your voice,” you stammer, embarrassed at him calling you out. you couldn’t deny that your professor was hot, everybody thought so and you hated school the only thing that got you through your classes was your day dreams of him fucking you.

“oh really, well i wanna see you get off to it for real this time.”

“wha—”

“touch yourself,” he demands with a grin, “fuck yourself on your fingers, put on a show for me,” he loosens his tie, and unbuttons his cuffs, ready to watch you perform for him, “and if you do well, then we could talk about your extra credit.”

you take off your pants, your hands moving directly to your throbbing pussy — since of course you had no panties on. you press your thumb down on your clit as your fingers work their way into your cunt. you were already soaked, just from hearing your professor speak to you, so it was easy to slide your digits in and out of you. 

nanami’s grin grows wider, loving the way your work your pussy,  “you not gonna play with your tits?” and you take his hint, your other hand sliding up to cup one of your boobs, your fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples. “good girl,” he praises.

you add another finger inside of you, writhing down hard on his desk against your digits. you quicken your pace, rubbing your thumb vigorously against your clit. his gaze on you served as an encouragement, your ultimate goal was shifted, at this point you didn’t care whether he passed or failed you — you just wanted to put on a good show for him.

“you gonna cum for me?” he taunts, the sound of your pussy squelching around your fingers as you drive them in is like music to his ears. you barely even noticed him fisting his dick, stroking it hard — matching the pace of your fingers hammers your cunt.  “you gonna make a big mess for me all over my desk?”

“professor i-” you whine, wanting more than just your own fingers inside of you, “please i need—”

“professor? what was it that you called me earlier?” he teases, “remind me of that and then maybe i’ll give you what you’re begging for.”

“s-sir please,” you sputter, barely being able to string a sentence together. you could feel you were about to cum hard. your fingers were still drilling into your pussy, and your hands were still suctioned on your tit and nanami's dick was taunting you. “i need you.”

“you need me hmm?” he mocks, his eyebrow tilting as he stares at your fucked out face.

“yeah p-please i need your dick,” you beg, your pussy was gushing all over your fingers, as your strokes got sloppier, “i need you i-in me.”

“oh really?” he asks with a smirk, a slight chuckle as you nod eagerly, “well too bad.”

“wha—”

“you really thought i’d put my dick in a slutty student that’s not even smart enough to even pass my class?” he lectures, he tuts his teeth, shaking his head, “now finish off for me and leave office hours end in a few minutes.”

“f-fuck,” you moan out, you could barely even process his words, too busy focused on cumming all over your fingers to think about how he just denied you of what you really wanted, your hand falls off your tit, your head jerking back as your release over his desk. he’s quick to cum too, biting down on his fist to surpress the loud moan threatening to come out

“you really made a mess for me huh,” he observes, swiping his fingers across the pool of cum you left on his desk and bringing it into his mouth, “sweet.” you were at a loss for words, you were just coached through one of the best orgasms you ever had from your professor — and he didn’t even touch you — yet you still don’t know whether he’s gonna pass you or not.

“so about that exam…?” you voice trails, as you put back on your shirt, hopping of his desk.

“i’ll think about it, sit the exam first and i’ll see what i can do,” his voice turns serious, and he nods his head in the direction for you to leave indicating for you to get up out of his office. but just before you're about to leave the room he calls out to you, “oi.”

“thanks for the live show.” 

☆ TOJI 

“why do we always have to fuck in such awkward spaces,” you complain nearly tripping on a basketball as toji holds you upright.

“you know you love it baby,” he smirks, pressing a kiss to your cheek, thrusting up into you further. 

you were in the gym supply closet, having your weekly sex with your university's gym teacher. you don’t even know how your little routine came about but once he started to hammer into you every friday after basketball practice, you’ve never missed a meet up.

“don’t call me that,” you groan out at the use of his pet name.

“why not?” he grumbles, cupping your tits with his hands as he stands behind you, “aren’t you students s’pposed to listen to your teachers and all that.”

you take a sharp inhale as his large hands smother your boobs, his thick things toy with your nipples, “but y-you aren’t a real teacher, in case you forgot.”

“am too,” he mutters like a child.

“a-are not,” you spit back just as childishly.

“am, too,” he persists, thrusting into you hard. pushing you down by your nape, forcing your hands to grip onto some random gym apparatus. he uses his foot to spread your legs apart wider so he can fit right behind you. fucking into you with something to prove.

“you teach gym to a bunch of brain dead j-jocks, wouldn’t say that classifies as being an actual professor toji.” you continue riling him up, biting your lip as his hammers into you harder. “you’re more like a glorified personal trainer than a teacher.”

he drives into you deeper, “oh and your just an uppity bitch, who still ended up fucking this ‘personal teacher,’ in a gym closet,” his mouth moves close to your ear, as he whispers, “so what does that say about you baby?” he presses a kiss underneath your ear lobe, before lightly sucking on it.

his words go straight to your core, him calling you an ‘uppity bitch’ had the exact effect he intended them to have — you throwing  your ass on his dick, fucking him back as hard as he was fucking you. 

he sends a smack to your ass, biting his lip as it ripples at the contact of his palm. his slaps were merciless, having you scream out every time he hits your cheek. “how’s this for a glorified personal trainer huh?” he coos in your ear, feeling dignified as you rut against him more feigning for more of his dick in your throbbing pussy. 

“ah you f-fill me up s-so so good,” you mewl out, as his dick pumps in and out of you stuffing you with every thrust. his mouth latches onto the nape of your neck, sucking on it as he ploughs into you deeper, hitting your spot with pinpoint accuracy.

“i know i do baby, i always stuff you good don’t i?” he groans out, your pussy was a vice grip on his dick, had him suppressing his moans whenever you clenched around him, “don’t know why you fuck around with these lame ass boys in your classes, they can’t fuck you like i do. do they?”

“well…” you voice trails in a teasing tone.

“dont f-fucking play with me,” he sputters, feeling himself about to bust all inside of you, “i’m the only one you fucking right,” when he doesn’t hear an immediate answer, he shoves himself into you his hips pushing right against your ass, “right?”

“y-yes fuck, right,” you sigh rolling your eyes at his act of possessiveness — ignoring how you pussy got even wetter at his words. “you’re the b-best i ever had, toji.”

“you’re damn right i am,” he scoffs out giving your ass one final slap as he says, “you going finish all over my dick, c’mon baby coat my dick with your sweet sweet,” and you do just that. you cum with a cry, releasing all over toji, as he shoots into you a loud groan leaving his mouth.

“aww i forgot how loud you get for me,” you tease him as he pulls out of you, turning to look at him with a grin, which he huffs out, “anyways what did i tell you about cumming in me, i'm not one of those cheerleaders you run around with,” you fuss swatting at his chest.

“yeah you aren’t one of the cheerleaders i run around with,” he repeats, “hence why i can cum in you, you know you’re my favourite fuck out of all my students”

“ugh you’re so gross.”

“you say that with my cum running down your legs,” he says, giving you a pointed look, his eyes staring down at your thighs, “i do have another hour till my next class i gotta teach, so i could clean it up for you?” he offers, already going down to his knees, knowing that was a suggestion you would not deny.

“if you insist.”

he starts to suck against your thighs as you lean against the wall, sandwiched between a goal post and a hockey stick, but just before his lips latch onto your pussy, he looks up to you with a pout, “do you really think gym coaches aren’t teachers?”

“oh shut up toji,” you mutter, pushing his head to your cunt.

☆ GETO

you storm into your professors office, pissed off. professor geto was the worst teacher you’ve ever had. he was cocky, arrogant and most of the time he didn’t have a clue what he was teaching. 

“ah miss know it all,” he muses, his personal nickname he created for you during his first semester of being your professor, “to what do i owe the pleasure this time.” you were no stranger to geto’s office, you were practically the only student that actually used his office hours. geto didn’t mind it though. the unplanned visits, your impoliteness — he was amused by it. 

“could you explain why you gave me a B, on my last paper?” you interrogate, waving said essay in his face furiously, “when we both know that this is easily worth an A.”

“i just think you could do better,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “i just think you haven’t harnessed your true potential, that’s all.” geto knew you were smart, the smartest person he’s ever taught. he just needed to get you in his office. and he knew a below average grade on an essay, that didn’t even matter, was the way to do that.

“and what do you know about potential?” you mutter, more to yourself than anything, “i don’t even know how you managed to get this job.”

he rolls his eyes at your comments, “do you really want this A?” 

"of course i want the stupid A," you reply, your tone determined. "i've put in the effort, and i've met all the requirements for this paper. there's no reason for you to give me a B except for your own personal bias against me."

“personal bias? some may argue that you’re actually my favourite?” geto leans back in his chair, a sly grin on his face. "but alright, then. here's the deal," he says, folding his arms. "if you can convince me right now, in this very moment, that you deserve an A for this paper, i'll change your grade. but you'll have to persuade me.”

“persuade you?” you retort, “what you want me to do a powerpoint presentation or something…?” 

he chuckles, shaking his head at your naivety, for someone so smart you somehow lack social awareness, “no i wanna see if you taste as good as you look.”

“you mean…” your voice trails, finally catching on to what he was getting at.

“come lay down on my desk,” he says casually as if this was a usual ordeal between the two of you. he could see you hesitating, “you do want that A right?” 

your feet were stuck in the ground, you never wanted to be one of those girls — ones that had to fuck a teacher just to get through university. but, regardless of your below A grade, you were more curious about what it would actually be like. especially with a professor that looked like geto. 

you lay down on his desk, nervous, you could feel his breath on your stomach as he slides down your jeans. he was kneeling down, his face at the same level as your pussy. he toys with your underwear, pulling at it and snapping it against your skin, giving you a smile of approval in your choice of panties. but just before he pulls them off you he asks, “you sure you want to do it smarty? you can run back to your dorm if you want?”

“anything to get the A,” you grit out, basically lying, since getting your grade improved was the last thing on your mind as he pulls off your underwear. 

he takes his hair — that was usually tied up in bun —  down, releasing his long hair, “just in case you need something to pull on,” he smirks.

his fingers slide across your wet slit, spreading your lips. he presses a kiss on your clit, slightly nibbling on it before working his mouth down to your pussy. you gasp at the contact as he latches his mouth on you, his tongue darting into your cunt at a quick pace. 

geto hums in satisfaction as you hands immediately go to grab his hair, pulling at it as his tongue gives you long strokes, lapping up all the juices already spilling out of you. “i didn’t think my star student would be this needy, if only the class could see you now.” he taunts lifting his head up, “i guess they wouldn’t be surprised though, your as hungry for my tongue as you are to answer questions in class,” he finishes with a chuckle pressing a kiss to your thigh.

but you’re quick to silence him, clenching your thighs against his head, “s-shut up,” you whine, thrusting your hips up in his face to meet his tongue. your head was swirling, you could barely remember how you ended up on your professors desk in the first place. but all you were focused on was clawing your fingers through his scalp as he slurps and sucks on your pussy.

“oh m-my god,” you murmur, soaking his face. he could tell by the way you pushing his face deeper into your cunt, his nose forced into your arousal that you were close.

“ready to let me taste you” he asks, his voice sending vibrations over your pussy, “wanna taste you so fucking bad.”

“fuck d-didn’t think it’ll be this g-good,” you whine out. he brings his thumb to you clit rubbing it as fast as he could taking you over the edge. you moan out, practically squealing, as you squirt all over his face. he smirks, trying to get as much as it as he can.

“i didn’t know my star student could squirt,” he teases, his mouth glistening with evidence of you, “or should i call you my star squirter.”

“haha, very funny…” you deadpan, becoming slightly shy at seeing him lick his lips wiping the last remains of you off of him.

“i guess my theory was right,” he concludes.

“what theory?” you ask, puzzled, forgetting the whole reason you let him eat you out in the first place.

“you do taste as good as you look,” he comments with a pleased grin, already reminiscing about you squirting all over his face.

“so about my A?” you ask pulling up your jeans, and collecting your things.

“yeah i’ll expect your rewrite on my desk by friday,” he shrugs, going back to his nonchalant persona.

“rewrite? did you not promise me an A if i can ‘persuade you,’ at how badly i want it?” you question, going back to your original state of being pissed off, “did i not persuade you mr ‘you do taste as good as you look.’ this is so unfair”

“ask me if i care about fairness?” he smirks, a laugh leaving his lips as he watches you storm out of his office, “hey! you left your underwear,” he calls out behind you, his laugh growing as you say nothing, putting up your middle finger at him and slamming his door shut.

☆ GOJO

“do you want to lose your job?” you chastise, “shut the fuck up.”

“but i can’t help it,” he purrs, nuzzling into your neck to suppress his non stop moans and whines that he was doing as he pushed his dick in you, “your pussy’s just too good.”

you were leaning against the desk of your professor gojo’s lecture hall, your legs wrapped around his bag as he hoisted you up, grinding his body against yours as his dick drives in your pussy. 

it was after hours, and gojo forgot to lock his classroom doors. as soon as your peers left the room he was quick to put his lips on yours, throwing all the stationary on his desk on the floor in the most dramatic fashion ever. 

you don’t know how you got entangled in a relationship with your teacher. since you didn’t actually benefit from it, and he was needier and clingier than an actual student your age. but the mind blowing orgasms he gave you every now and again made you forget all of his ‘bad qualities.’

“c’mon don’t tell me it’s not making you feel wetter,” he murmurs in between kisses, “the idea of someone walking in on me fucking your pretty little pussy.” you ignore him, your arms tightening around his neck as you bounce on his dick. “tell me that doesn’t make you hot,” he eases his dick out of you slightly, drawing both of your attention to his member already covered in your juices. his eyebrows raise when you look back at him as if he’s just proved his point.

“whatever, i guess the idea of us getting caught isn’t that bad,” you lie, knowing it was causing you to get better, “but if we do get caught then it's your ass gojo.”

“aww you’re so thoughtful,” he coos, “you really care about me and my job, will you miss me if i get fired?”

“well i’ll miss my on campus dick,” you mutter, scratching at his back, as he thrusts into you deeper, “but i’ll be able to replace you quickly i guess.”

“oh how you wound me,” he mocks, pulling you into a deep kiss, desperate to taste you. that was gojo’s favourite thing to do to you, of course your pussy was great, but your lips were his favourite thing. sometimes he’d even drag you out of the hallway into his office —not a care in the world if anyone was around— and pull you into his lap just shove his tongue into your mouth and fondle your tits.

for a lousy professor, gojo sure knew your body well. he knew every spot to hit, every place to kiss, every stroke to make and you loved it. the scratches you were giving him on his back, encouraging him to go deeper, stuffing you to the brim. “f-fuckk you take me so so well,” he moans in your ear, whining and grunting as you tighten your hold around him. 

“i’m close,” he mutters, his pace slowing. he lowers you down so your back is laying on the desk and he swoops his mouth down to your tits. enveloping your left breast with his mouth, greedily suckling at it. 

“wow already?” you taunt, “you’ve really lost your touch professor, when i was an undergrad we could go at it for days.” his mouth pauses, as he looks up at you with a pointed look that reads as ‘girl really? as if you aren’t close.’ he wasn’t wrong, from his deep long strokes in your pussy, and his tongue twisting on your nipples, you were ready to cum all over him.

“gojo shit,” you curse, your hand coming down to your clit, flicking at it fast to speed up your orgasm. but gojo slaps your hand away, almost offended that you would try to cum off of something other than his hands and mouth. he bites down on your nipple, punishingly and that sends you overboard. you let out a shriek as you cum all over his dick, your hand quickly coming over your mouth to suppress your whines.

“what happened to being quiet huh?” he mocks your warning from earlier, “don’t want to get caught, do we now?” but he’s quick to let out a deep moan, as he releases into you, spraying your walls with all your cum. he slumps over you, exhausted, and wanting to just feel you — gojo was always needy after sex.

after you both come down from your highs and clean up — thankful that nobody stumbled across you. gojo pulls you into his lap, dabbing kisses all over your neck, “so when you gonna let me take you out, outside the classroom?”

“y’know that’s not allowed right?” you remind him, looking at your professor as if he’s lost his mind, “what we’re doing now isn’t allowed, but out in public is a no go, gojo.”

“not allowed?” he retorts, as if it’s news to him, “i thought it was just heavily frowned upon?!”

an: sooo what did you think? which one was your favourite. me personal lame gym coach toji really did it for me. tagging my girl @jabamin mainly just for nanami. but yes ALSO IDK WHY I MADE THE READER DUMB IN THE NANAMI FIC, but I juxtaposed it by making you super smart in the geto fic so it balances it out. anyways lmk what you thought, thanks for reading!! DONT USE MY DIVIDERS

[fox-guardian]

[ID: An eight page digital comic featuring Sam, Celia, and Alice from The Magnus Protocol on a gray background. The characters are all colored with a single color each. Sam is red, Celia is green, and Alice is pink. Sam is a fat Arab man with short curly dark hair, a mustache, and a small goatee, and he is wearing small black earrings, a cardigan, a turtleneck, trousers and loafers. Celia is a taller Korean woman with short dark hair and she is wearing rectangular glasses, piercings including an industrial piercing, an x-shaped earring, and snakebites, a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a vest, trousers, and black wrist cuffs. Alice is an even taller white woman with long fluffy hair and crooked teeth, and she is wearing cat eye glasses, three pairs of earrings, snakebites, a flannel shirt, a hoodie tied around her waist, a patchwork skirt, bracelets, and a lanyard.

Sam and Celia are stood at a table covered in papers. Celia urgently turns to Sam. Celia: Alice is coming! She can't catch us researching, we need a diversion, QUICK! How can we make her think we're not doing what we're doing? Sam, shrugging really hard: UHHHH she thinks I have a crush on you?? Celia, sweating, turns back to where Alice is coming from, panicked, and turns back to Sam, shrugging and reaching for him. Celia smiling a bit manically: Yeah, that'll work, sure!

Sam, with Celia's hands grabbing his cardigan: Wait whaAAAA- He is pulled out of frame. Alice walks in: Hey Sam, working hard or hardly woOOOAA She leans on the doorframe as she holds a hand to her chest in shock.

The next panel is rendered with soft pink shadows and "shoujo sparkles" in the now pink background. Sam is sitting on the table holding onto Celia, whose face is buried in his neck as she wraps one arm around his back and the other holds up one of his legs under his knee. Neither of their faces are visible. The rest of the page fades back to gray from there. Sam and Celia look over at Alice, hair ruffled, Sam is now blushing. Sam: ALICE!! He pushes Celia away and they look at each other for a moment, panicked. Sam: It's- .... exactly what it looks like! Celia: Aw, you've caught us! He rests his hands on her shoulders and they both look in opposite directions as though embarrassed. Celia is also blushing lightly. There are red and green neon signs pointing to them reading "Totally Ham-Slammin'" and "GAY! (in an M/F way)" respectively.

Alice looks to be in shock with a vacant expression and a computer pop up over her forehead reading "Alice.exe has stopped responding". In the next panel she is fine again and back to smirking. Alice: WOW SAM, didn't know you had it in you! Now I'm no snitch, so I didn't see anything, BUT- you lovebirds should cut it out before Gwen catches you. Celia and Sam look at each other anxiously, cheeks pressed together as she speaks. Alice: You KNOW she'd tell Lena. Celia, pulling back and smoothing her hair out: Oh, for sure. Sam: Th-Thanks, Alice. Alice: Don't mention it! I'll give you crazy kids a minute to straighten up, TA-TA~ She waves as she leaves.

Sam and Celia listen to her steps fade before going "phew" and finally pulling away from each other, now holding hands at an arms distance. Celia: You alright? That was kinda sudden.... Sam: It's fine! Just a bit caught off guard. Celia: I can't believe she actually bought all of that! Sam: Me either! Works for me, though.

Celia: Did you want to get down- Sam, pulling away suddenly, blushing again: NO! He crosses his legs and looks away sheepishly, scratching his head. Sam: I wanna stay here another minute or so.... Celia, concerned: You sure you're alright? Sam: Yeah! Just, er.... Celia looks at him, confused. Sam, blushing increasingly harder: Ahem. (He folds his hands in his lap politely.) I am not immune to being thrown on a table. Celia, smiling and politely stepping away: AH! .... Noted~

She walks away casually, still smiling. Celia: I'll give you a minute to collect yourself. Sam, head down in his lap, embarrassed: Thanks.... He looks up after she leaves. Sam: Wait. He straightens up, slightly panicked, face entirely red. Sam: What do you mean by "NOTED"?!

end ID]

~~~~

i am SO glad this episode didn't entirely debunk the silly headcanon that birthed this comic. initially i wasn't convinced sam actually had a crush so i made this like "well if he didn't before, HE DOES NOW" so.... here's this silly comic thing <3 i just think they're neat <3

[mydarlingclaudia]

you wanna guess the color of my underwear

note : divider is from @/anitalenia. I wrote this because I listened to that Charli and Billie song on loop and couldn’t get it out of my head AND I ONLY FOUND IT THIS MORNING UGHHH this is literally just smut. I also kinda already wrote something like this but I love pussy eater Leon he’s real in my head. mdni

wc : 1k

tags : @lottiies

desc : Leon just loves eating you out. smut!! - oral (f receiving), not proofread, fem!reader, ID!Leon

Leon always paid the utmost attention to you when the two of you were alone. It didn’t even stop there, he’d send you gifts if he could when he was away, always adding a note to let you know how badly he missed you. Other times just finding a way to call you and let you know how badly he wanted to come back home.

And he was eager, too. Even better.

You and Leon must’ve been dating for two years by now, he knows he’s handsome, you couldn’t help but feed his ego day by day. Although, when he’d come home from a mission he’d be stuck in his own head and a lot of the time it was your job to get him out of it. It never took long, you’re pretty sure he’d do anything for you, especially when it comes to making you happy.

Leon’s always ready to get on his knees for you, too. Once again, even better.

You didn’t even have to ask for him to eat you out most of the time. It’s like it was the first thing in his mind when it came to making you feel good, or proving how badly he missed you, maybe even just doing it because he loved having his head buried between your legs.

He’s quick to work happy to please you for as long as you’re willing to let him. The achey jaw and sore knees come with the job.

He doesn’t even wait to get you inside the house today, he’s got you laid out in the backseat of his car, kneeling down o the floor between your legs. The angles odd, but he makes it work.

Leon hasn’t really even done anything yet, just holding your thighs in place atop of his shoulders as he licks over the center of your panties, the skirt you previously wore tossed aside somewhere in the car, he’s still in the suit he wore to work today. This has been going on for five minutes, not that you minded, he bought you these panties for a reason. You’ve been a bit of a tease since before the two of you even slept together, this problems only grown since you found out he’s obsessed with you.

Leon looks up at you through his eyelids all the while, stopping for a plot second to shoot you a smirk.

“You gonna keep me waiting?” You ask him, moving your thighs to adjust the position you’re laying in, only for his grip to tighten.

“No, ma’am.” Leon licks over the wet patch on your panties one more time before he lets go of your thighs and leans back. He takes his left hand, pulling your panties to the side. Leon’s other hand pushes your thighs a bit further apart, then trailing down to let his thumb rub against your slit. His thumb slips between your folds to gently pull them apart, you study his face carefully, letting out a shaky breath as his thumb rubs over your clit.

Leon swallows before he spits onto your already wet cunt, continuing to use his thumb to tease your clit and rub his spit around.

“Don’t take too long,” You mumble, following it with a small giggle. Leon smiles at you, his movements stopping so he can move his hands to help angle your hips up a bit.

“You know I always take care of you.” He whispers, his mouth is on you not even a second later, dragging his tongue through your folds and sucking greedily. The moan you let out is almost embarrassing, your hands go up to dig your palms in your eyes as he continues to lap up your arousal.

Leon’s gotten better at eating you out over the years, you never complained much, previous boyfriends you had had refused to even do this, Leon found that ridiculous. But having his face stuffed between your legs at least once a week was an amazing feeling.

You whine when Leon pulls off of you the tiniest bit, letting your arms fall to the sides of your head as he peppers kisses up and down your slit.

“Taste so good,” He murmurs against your heat, his kisses becoming a bit sloppier as his tongue slips out once again. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Your voice is all breathy when you say it. You gasp when his thumbs push your folds apart again, pressing his face further into your cunt as he sucks and licks at your entrance, his nose bumping against your clit.

This time, one of your hands makes its way into his hair, holding him against you. Leon’s chuckle is muffled against your pussy, you can feel his drool and your juices coating your sensitive flesh, your back arches as his tongue probes against your hole. His movements only get more aggressive after that.

You whine out his name, he hums against your skin and turns his attention to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and running over it with his tongue.

“Jesus, L-Leon- fuck-!” You moan, your grip on his hair tightens and you hear him groan, but he doesn’t let off.

“I know,” His voice is still muffled, “C’mon.”

Leon continues to urge you on, you can’t find any words to respond with, the only noises coming from your throat being moans and whimpers. You cum into his waiting mouth not even two minutes later, he still doesn’t pull away from you.

After he’s sure you’re all cleaned up, he presses one more kiss to your cunt before he pulls your panties back over, giving your clothed heat a soft slap. Leon rests his arms over your thighs and looks up at you as you sit yourself up, his face is all wet, he doesn’t seem to mind.

“You’re my favorite girl.” His voice is a bit rough, you love it.

“I better be.” You pant softly, bringing one of your hands up to run over his tousled hair. Leon’s hands move to run up and down your sides, giving you a soft squeeze.

“Hungry?”

“Yeah,”

“I’ll help you up. Let’s go, pretty girl.”

[dollfacefantasy]

I saw you made a bimbo x toji and I started to wonder how DI or ID Leon would work out so if you have the time and want to do it would you make a short story or a headcannon?

hii so just to clarify i didn't write that bimbo reader x toji fic, that was just something i reblogged from another writer cause i liked it.

and i only really like bimbo reader in like a smut context (so basically an extension of dumbification lol) so that's what i'm gonna do <3

leon kennedy x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, daddy kink

when you wanna turn your brain off, leon has no problem pulling you into his lap. his lips land on your neck first, kissing down your throat to the spot that makes your breath hitch without fail. his hands slide over your curves, teasing your body beneath those tight, pretty pink clothes you always wear.

when you wanna turn your brain off, leon is quick to rip said clothes from your body. he savors your whines and weak protests telling him that this top was your favorite or that they don't sell that skirt anymore so be gentle. but he drops them to the floor all the same. he's even more obsessed with the delicate baby pink panties you wear and the lacy bra that matches.

when you wanna turn your brain off, leon can't stop himself from teasing you. as soon as he gets your bra off, he's all over your tits. he's squeezing them, kissing them, sucking little marks onto them. "think these things are bigger than your brain, babydoll," he murmurs. he can't stifle the laugh that comes out of him when you kick your heel into his calve and huff "that's mean."

when you wanna turn your brain off, leon always over apologizes, his insincerity clear in his tone. "you're right, my smart girl," he coos as he lays you down on the surface of whatever you two are making out on. "but you know, you don't have to think when daddy's around to do it for you," he says as his hand slides between your legs and rubs your clit through the sticky fabric guarding it.

when you wanna turn your brain off, leon's other hand rises to your face. his thumb brushes over your bottom lip before pushing inside your mouth. he feels his dick wake up as you suck on the digit like it's instinct, letting it pacify any of your prior protests. your soft tongue presses against the pad, and he can already hear a little moan in the back of your mouth. "that's right. that's what that little mouth is best at," he murmurs.

when you wanna turn your brain off, leon plays with your pussy till you're a squirmy, needy mess under him. only when your brain is already all mushy will he slide those panties down your legs, planting a kiss on your ankle before discarding them with the other clothes. he slides his thumb out from your mouth too, rubbing some saliva down over your chin. the cute little strands of drool make you all the more endearing to him.

when you wanna turn your brain off, leon watches your eyes when he pulls his cock out, that glassy-eyed stare you get when he's got you like this. he speaks to you like every word is a challenge to understand. "is that what you want, baby?" he croons, slapping his hard shaft down on your tummy, a preview of how it will fit. you give a weak little nod and he continues, "yeah? you want a treat, princess? want daddy nice and deep in that cute cunt?"

when you wanna turn your brain off, leon doesn't make you wait too long before he buries himself nice and deep in your tight pussy. he grips your hips, not that you ever try to run when you're like this. he listens for all your nonsensical little babbles, humming along with "mhm" and "is that right?" he angles his hips to make you squeal and lifts his hands to the back of your kneecaps to get you folded in half so he can rail you even deeper. "my dumb little girl. so good for me even when i've fucked your brain out," he coos while pounding into you.

when you wanna turn your brain off, leon thinks his favorite part of the whole thing is the big, dopey smile that takes over your features. the way you giggle out moans. your limbs bounce around with his movement as you've gone limp. he knows for certain that there's not a thing going on in that head right now. in this moment, he's your whole world. "you havin' fun, pretty girl?" he grunts, and the answer is always "yeah, daddy" followed by laughter.

when you wanna turn your brain off, leon ALWAYS gives you a creampie. he shoots his load as deep as he can, making sure you get that warm, gooey feeling in your belly. he rocks his hips a few more times to get a good look at the messy sight of your connection, the mixture of the two of you that coats the base of his cock. you always whine and kick your legs from the light overstimulation. he hushes you with a kiss on the forehead and promises to clean you up. he just wants to enjoy this a little more. having a fresh supply of cum fucked into you always keeps that pretty little head nice and empty for a few hours.

[qvrcll]

Hello :) I saw you are tking requests and I have something on my mind for a quite some time...If you maybe could write Leon Kennedy ID x younger (like in her early 20s) girlfriend reader where they are making love and chris walk on them. But if you dont want to write it you dont need to so feel no pressure. have a nice day :)

rosemary

summary: whilst you and leon share skin to skin contact in the fervent heat of your bedroom, a gentle intrusion seems to knocks things out of prospect. still, does it have to be so complicated?

warnings: female reader, ID ! leon, nsfw under the cut, getting walked in on EL OH EL, fluff if you squint i swear

a/n: hi lovely thank u for the request!! i had a great time writing this and i hope you enjoy :-)

Leon was 180 centimetres of hard, breathing flesh — that, put up against you in such a compromising position as this, made things all too complicated. Brooding, in a sense that make things sweat, heave with pounding release.

Of course, he never played the fair game, however many times he swore he would.

He’s got you folded in half already, quivering cunt spurting a heat so delicious, it sinks him in like a vice when he gives into it. His hands, dangerous aviaries that hold every part of you in place, scavenge across your body like he has never seen you like this before. Never had you quite this deep, this desperate and thrashing before.

But he has, and he knows it all too fucking well.

“Like it when I do that, hm?” he spits out, throat abused by the abundant swell of groans and other string of pathetic noises that leave him. Still, he’s zeroed in on you only — the way you croon against him like a helpless little thing, bundled up beneath him in a mess of nerves, an assortment of pleas, pitching high from “r-right there!” and “m-mhm… just—like that…”

He’s learnt it all — your noises, twitches. The sensitive grip of skin underneath your thigh that leaves you breathless and moaning. Two, three, four slick fingers intruding your cunt, leaving you sore and satisfied the next day. He’s made love to you, and this only seems it, that familiar beckoning gush of your walls pressing against his cock like it had so many other times before.

And it’s barely coordinated, when your hand sinks lower, between the fervent slaps of either of your bodies in a distorted rhythm, seeking to pay attention to the awful throb of your clit and you mewl when his own hands quickly supersede yours in quick fashion. They’re larger, cover more space and bear more weight beneath the flesh, when he grants you some mercy by slathering any wetness against your clit and doing the work for you.

Aw, how sweet of you, Kennedy.

Is what you would have uttered. Smirked with a superlative sense of ungratefulness, if he wasn’t aiming to drill another hole into you.

“Fuck—“ he curses above you, and it all falls out of rhythm. A delicious combination of all your senses. A sign of your impending release.

You remember the gruelling trip back in his car.

You remember the awful coldness of the elevator as he pressed you against the familiar glint of it, mouth all full of the taste you and a raging sense of impatience.

You remember tripping into his room, already bare. Already responding to his cut-throat presses and licks in seconds.

“You close, sweetheart?” He calls you. But for you, it’s a reminder, that you are still here, underneath him. Writhing, thrashing, but with him nonetheless. Heated and throbbing, but fingers interlocked with his in ceremonious fashion. And the thought makes you smile, sloppy and twitching, through the lewdness of the thick air.

And you can do nothing except claw at him, use him as a living, breathing grounding machine. Can do nothing but hold him so desperately as you break, count the wrinkles against his forehead as he pushes into you again. Await the swift hit of release as you choke out, “Y-Yeah… I—I’m… close… mnng—“

“Leon? You in here?”

The additional voice is distant, airy almost. You almost wonder if you’d imagined it, sorted it out of nothing from your deeply calibrated mess of a brain.

The sex must’ve driven me mad, you think. Almost laugh, but don’t, as light hits your eyes.

And that familiar coil in your tummy dampens, aches, is reduced to ashes as Leon scrambles for the blanket with a large scoff, wraps you gently with it and shields your body against his — the heat of your sweat and the lathering material from the blanket does more to irritate you, but it would do, when Chris himself was standing calcified and struck dumb with confusion in the arch of your doorway.

So much for locking the door.

“Chris, get out!” Leon yells, sifts for his shirt. Cards the floor for his pants and undergarments. He’s almost fully dressed as Chris grumbles out an apology, staggering out of the room with a limp you didn’t recognise he had ever worn before.

And you’re moth-eaten, hot, underneath the covers. Some part of you is mortified, but the larger part is aching for relief. Your legs are tense with the course of your muscles and sweat coats you in a messy sheen. But the ache between your legs is stagnant, mulling in sick waters like a beaten soldier.

“Sweetheart?”

It takes you a few counted minutes to realise your current predicament — Chris had seen the two of you in bed by pure accident, and with the last shred of consciousness you possess, you burst with colour. Still, Leon’s voice is molten. Electric. It sends sparks flying and frothing at your skin, as his arm skirts over yours in that familiar fashion — a silent kiss inked into your skin by touch alone, a low voice muttering ‘It’s alright. It’s okay.’

And he smiles, wide and large, smile lines soothing the ache and bringing you to be. You’re almost relieved, almost rid of that throe in you, sex nearly forgotten until he speaks again,

“Don’t touch yourself until I’m back. You can do that, can’t you? Hm?”

And as he leaves, smirking, you swiftly melt into the suffocating creases of your shared bed, charged up all over again.

© 2023 qvrcll ! do not repost any of my works on any platform.

[twilghtkoo]

daze

pairings. haechan x reader (f)

genre. smut

warnings. minors dni, oral receiving (f), cum eating, voyeurism(??) haechan answers a phone call while they’re doing it, shoves ur underwear in ur mouth, reader is fleXible, also not proofread 🏃‍♀️

note. i haven’t written smut in awhile so here’s something (i’m on my period so this is an excuse lmfao) :D sorry for the lack of writing from me >< i’ve been playing totk and been on vacation !!

haechan masterlist

—

your teeth dug into your bottom lip as he shoved your oversized shirt over your bare chest, grazing his teeth over your nipples.

sex was not on your agenda for this morning, but you and him both know you won’t tell him to stop.

“fuck, your tits are so pretty. my pretty girl,” he breathes out. one of his hands trailing down your stomach towards the sweet spot between your legs. he didn’t even have to prep you, already soaked with your slick juices coating your inner thighs and the thin, soft fabric of your underwear. in any other situation, you’d be ashamed of the wet spot that so quickly appeared but you were too distracted by the work of his tongue on your chest.

you couldn’t form a response, his tongue working it’s magic around your hardened buds. his erection pressing against your leg, but before you could reach for it his phone was buzzing beside both of you.

he reluctantly pulls his mouth away from your chest, cursing under his breath. he grabs his phone and glances at the caller id and at you.

his mouth curls into a sly grin, leaning down to place a quick kiss to your lips before he’s sliding down your pastel pink, high waisted panties in one quick motion. “just a minute baby, an important call.” he reaches for his phone again, waving it front of you.

your brows drew together, about to ask what he thinks he’s about to do but he shoves your underwear in your mouth, muffling any resistance and the quiet moan when the slickness of arousal made contact with your tongue.

he is not about to do what i think he’s about to do…

“yes manager?” he answers, his eyes focused on your bare pussy.

he cannot be serious right now.

he looks up at you, pulling the phone away from his ear to tap the ‘mute’ button and putting his manager on speaker. placing his phone right in between your chest, holding his middle and ring finger up to his lips before they wrap around his fingers. your chest heaving up and down from the shaky breathes you were letting out through your nose, making grabby hands to reach his waist to pull him closer to you.

you couldn’t care less about what his manager was saying, not like you can actually hear him. your ears were only listening in on the wet sounds he made with his fingers stuffed in his mouth.

“…so you have to be ready tomorrow morning okay?”

haechan slips his fingers out slowly, with the same hand he takes out the fabric from your mouth and replaces it with the same fingers that were in him. your eyes roll back at the taste of him, your tongue swirling around his long digits.

he puckers his lips, quietly whispering a ‘shh’ before tapping his phone.

his eyes never leaves yours. “i will, how long do you think the meeting will be?” yanking his fingers away from your mouth, he slides them up and down your folds before sliding his two fingers in your awaiting hole.

you gasped, slapping your free hand that’s not gripping the sheets over your loud mouth while he’s pumping in and out of you. the thought of him taking a call while fingering you made you clench around him. the heat shared between you two was sure hotter than hell.

he presses the mute button again, devilishly indulging you, as if you were his last meal. a scream being held in your throat for the fear of being caught on the phone despite knowing he couldn’t hear you. the lewd slurping, wet sounds made your cheeks red yet clench around his tongue.

his large hands had pushed your thighs open, his knuckles turning white from the grip he had on your skin. his tongue thrusting in and out of your desperate hole and sucking on your sensitive bud.

“oh fuck!” you cried out, tears threatening to spill from your waterline at the immense pleasure. your stomach tightening, nearing the stage of falling apart.

but that all came to a halt when he pulled away from his dessert to answer the phone again.

“okay, sounds good.” he responds calmly, his voice steady and in place, like he wasn’t feasting on your pussy just a few seconds ago. and you think it’s because a singer– a good one– has to have steady vocals during any physical activity.

you were to deep in thought that you didn’t notice the call had ended and he discarded the phone across the room.

“sorry baby, now where was i?”

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[10:04 pm]

(cw: f!reader, side characters are inebriated)

Frat!Jaehyun stared at his phone expectantly. You were late. 28 minutes and some seconds late to the party you had told him just earlier that day that you'd come to. The crowd of party goers was getting thicker, the air was getting hotter, and people were getting more and more unbearable. Even though the party had only started about an hour ago, he could could count on both hands the amount of times he'd already been offered a drink, but he denied them every time. He wanted to be clear and level headed for when you would soon text him that you were at the entrance and wanted to find him.

But another 15 minutes passed and he had still heard nothing from you. His calls went to voicemail, his texts were unanswered, and there was radio silence on your end. He was getting restless, had he done something to annoy you? He didn't think he did, but maybe when you offered him a drink of your coffee earlier he had taken too much. But that wouldn't justify you ignoring him.

He pulled away from the wall in search of familiar faces to ask if anyone had seen you. Taeyong, Mark, Johnny, and Doyoung all answered no. Yuta yelled over the music, "It's crazy packed in here, she'll find you! Want a drink?"

Jaehyun shook his head angrily, "She hasn't answered any of my texts, I'm getting worried."

Taeyong took note of the concerned look on Jaehyun's face and leaned in to tell Jaehyun, "I saw her roommate outside not too long ago, you should ask her."

Jaehyun nodded, quickly making his way outside to catch sight of your roommate. She was clearly tipsy but was able to tell Jaehyun that you were ready for the party when you got a huge headache and decided to stay in. He thanked her profusely before fighting his way through the thick crowd to the front door.

"Bro! Where are you going?" Mark yelled.

"She's sick in her dorm, I'm going to run by a pharmacy and get her some medicine and stuff," Jaehyun answered.

"But you're Social Chair, man. You can't leave!" A drunk Haechan whined.

"I have bigger responsibilities, get him some water before he puts another bathroom out of commission for the night. I'll be back tomorrow," Jaehyun firmly told Mark.

Jaehyun was running quickly to your dorm after he stopped by the pharmacy. He flashed the RA a quick smile and quickly pulled out his student ID. "I'm glad you're here," she told him as she led him to your room, "poor thing, her roommate told me she'd never seen her this poorly."

Jaehyun's nervousness heightened, he gave the RA a quick thanks as he slid into your dorm. He left his shoes at the door and padded to your room quietly. He pushed the door open as gently as he could, only to catch sight of you buried under you blankets and pillows with soft only sniffles heard.

"Baby?" He questioned quietly, making his way to the edge of your bed.

"Jaehyun?" Came your weak response.

"My love, why didn't you tell me you were sick?" He cooed softly.

You whined, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes, "you had a party you were so excited about. It hit me so suddenly, I just came to bed. I don't even know where I left my phone."

He shook his head with a sigh, he pulled the pills out from the pharmacy bag and dropped two into one of your hands and a gatorade in the other hand, "take these while I look for it."

He moved around your room quietly, folding the clothes you had no doubt left on the floor in your rush to get to the party, putting away shoes and searching your desk- no phone. He stepped into the bathroom finding it beside an open bottle of eyelash glue and one false eyelash.

Jaehyun placed your phone on your bedside table and slid into bed with you, pulling you into his hold and letting you rest your head on his chest. "You know I care more about you than some stupid party right?" He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You nodded against his chest, "You were excited about this one, though."

He chuckled softly, running his hand down your back comfortingly, "I was excited because you were excited to surprise me with your outfit, my love."

You nuzzled into his chest, squeezing your arms around his waist, "thank you for taking care of me Jaehyun."

"I'd do anything for you," he stated softly.

You were drifting to sleep, your eyes struggling to stay open, "Can you change next time, so you don't smell like a frat house though?"

He rolled his eyes, you were going to be better in no time.

[sublimecatgalaxy]

AAAAAAAAA PEETA ENEMIES TO OOVERS AND THE “I really don’t like you” DIALOUGE OH MY LORDT IM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH IM SO EXCITED AKRJSKFNMFH

I LOVE THIS!!

"Did Effie give you the speech too?" Peeta asks as he enters the back of the train, his presence tugging an eyeroll from me and I mentally hit myself for not hiding in the bathroom instead- somewhere where he can't he can't be obnoxiously nice to me.

"About behaving?" I ask him, scooting over so he can sit next to me on the couch, folding my legs up into my chest as I hug them. "Yes."

"She told me I'm supposed to try to convince you to like me." Peeta says with a small smile and blushed cheeks and it almost makes me smile but I remember that I promised myself to choose to be annoyed by him so I would not inevitably fall in love with him.

But it's so damn hard.

"That's easier said than done." I scoff, looking out the window at all of the colored trees, trying to not make eye contact with him, knowing better than that and knowing that a blush would immediately rise up my neck and my cheeks would heat up.

"C'mon." He nudges me, electricity sparking under his touch and it sends goosebumps up my arm and down my spine. "I bet, deep down, you tolerate me more than you think." I give him a deadpanned look and a scoff, lying through my teeth with a shake of my head.

"I really don't like you." I mutter, glaring at him through my lashes as he laughs, shaking his head at my blatant lie.

"And I really don't believe you." He sighs, stretching his arm out on the couch behind me, leaning towards me a bit with a simple pat on my shoulder. "This whole tour will go ten times smoother if you just let go a bit."

"I just really don't want to be here." I breathe sincerely, finally meeting my gaze and I allow myself to slip into him for a moment, leaning into the way that his hand rests on my shoulder, soothingly rubbing circles into my skin.

"And it's not my fault that you are." His voice is stern and an example of his frustration towards my faux dislike towards him and I give him a soft smile, nodding my head in acknowledgment. Maybe I'll go easy on him this time. "I don't want to be here either."

"I know." I reach up to pat his hand that's sitting on my shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry, I get it." He shrugs and I laugh, feeling frustrated but also comforted tears rise to my eyes but I'm quick to blink them away.

"You're too nice." I scoff, watching him make his way to his feet, prepared to walk out of the room but he turns to me at the last second and he sends me a wink.

"Eh, it balances out your attitude."

"Peeta!"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the heart @vampviolets@haylee-e @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife

@officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @witxhy-lexx @minjix @luvroseee @tee-swizzle @savageneversaw @admiringlove @hysteriahall @piceous21 @starlightandfairies @igotmajordaddyissues @drewstarkey-wife1 @manyfandomsfanvergent @revesephemeres

[shotmrmiller]

TONI OMG WAIT

Imagine reader and cbf!simon used to playfight a lot as kids, so when they meet again when simon is literally thrice his body mass and reader asks if they can playfight again, simon gets super worried and outright refuses. I mean, he isn't the scrawny, noodle-armed boy anymore, what if he folds you in half? (👁👄👁)

- Biscuits 🌺

am i crazy or is there a scene in jason v freddy where he folds this one guy thats laying on a mattress in half.

id let him do that to me.

i can tell you, from personal experience, that if you try to play fight someone that beefy, your arms are folding into your body with the quickness.

-

you used to bump shoulders with simon as a kid. not anymore. you just ricochet off of him like a tennis ball off a wall.

simon was very unsure but you goaded him like you used to back then.

"c'mon, simmy, you scared? afraid i'll break you?"

it works. good to see nothing's changed.

simon gets into a sparring stance and as soon as you give the signal, strikes. he's stupid fast and light on his feet. simon's almost triple your size yet fluid in his movements. in the blink of an eye, you find yourself sprawled on your back, pinned down by a heavy leg on your body, and both of your hands in his one large, bear-like hand.

you're floored. (literally) and then you look up at him. his eyes are glazed over. his countenance is empty, devoid of emotion.

this isn't simon anymore. this is whoever he becomes once he puts on that skull mask of his.

you feel a mix of fear and excitement— he's monstrous.

you'd like to admire him longer, but his knee is starting to painfully dig into your hips.

"simon, not calling you uh, big or whatever, but you're fucking heavy." his face flushes with colour as he seems to snap back to reality, and you groan in relief when he releases you.

god what the hell did they feed him in the military? you felt like you were being crushed with just his leg.

he's scooping you up in his arms, mumbling apologies into your hair when you ask him if that's how he fights the 'bad guys' because he's fucking terrifying.

simon breathes out a chuckle, and you can feel the tension in his shoulders melt away at your light-hearted question.

"I'm serious, Simon! I'd flatline at the sight of you in the dark!"

[prozacwhorehouse]

cooper adams (the butcher) headcannons (sfw and nsfw)

first are just a few general ones bc I can’t really think of this man without it being nsfw🙈🙈

PLEASE go easy on me!! i have never written smut before so i hope it’s good 🙏🙏

barely proofread but readable

- probably an incredible cook. when he cooks, it comes out looking like a professionally made meal. id think it looks and tastes so perfect because he needs it to be perfect - probably throws it away if he adds so much as a grain to many of salt and starts over.

- listens to a lot of 80s music. from bon jovi and madonna to hall and oates and stevie nicks, he’ll always belt out to words in the worst singing voice you’ve ever heard in the car with the windows down, embarrassing riley and logan.

- house is always clean. bed always perfectly made, clothes neatly folded in drawers in colored order. (judging by the way we saw him fix that towel in the bathroom, everything at home needs to look perfect)

- we all know this already, but dad of the year!! fucking loves his kids. always attended riley’s tea parties, raced cars with logan.

- i can’t say that he loves his wife. he seemed more mad to get caught, more than it was his wife who sold him out and who he’d never see again. probably only still with rachel for his kids - he loves them too much and wouldn’t want to complicate their lives, which become complicated in a worse way when he’s caught.

- brings you little gifts all the time. maybe a book you’ve been talking about wanting to read, or a book he recommends to you. if you don’t know he’s the butcher, he’d bring the book to cure your boredom at work, or if you do know he’s the butcher, to keep you entertained while you’re locked in one of his houses 😕

nsfw headcannons 18+, minors dni!!

pretty much just filth

- hires hookers on the reg. like he just has an anger that he can’t show at home, so why not pay a woman to take it 😍on the other hand he’s probably killed multiple of them, couldn’t help himself

- probably wouldn’t kill you. would threaten you with the idea just to scare you, but he wouldn’t. he loves you, he needs you.

- you’re his and only his!! say hello to your new home (one of the houses he bought solely for the purpose of secretly keeping someone I mean you there)😜😜!!

- d word. you have to call him that he won’t accept anything else sorry!! he has control, like i said you belong to him

- brat!tamer through and through!!

- manhandles you he will throw you around on the bed no problem. flipping you on to your back, stomach, what not, moving you if the position you’re in isn’t quite up to his standards, he will move you with FORCE. you’re his toy and let’s be real you’re okay with that

- if youre annoying him he will grab you, throw you on the bed, hold you down, tie your wrists and ankles together, and a scarf is shoved in your mouth and tied harshly behind your head, and he’ll just leave you there. “be quiet,” he slams the door. he can hear your muffled cries from down the hall, but you were distracting him from his work so what other choice did he have than to punish you 🥴

- he’ll come back when he’s done working, could be hours later. he opens the door and you’re laying on the bed, eyes slowly falling shut above your tear streaked cheeks. he comes over and sits on the edge of the bed, leaning over to stroke your cheek with his thumb. your eyes flutter open, a small whimper escaping from around the scarf. “i hope you’ve learned your lesson. about distracting me while i work. now should i leave you here for, let’s say, another few hours, or are you going to be a good girl?” you sniffle and nod your head, he smiles and reaches out to pull the scarf down. he makes quick work of releasing your ties, caressing the chaffed marks left on your skin. “im sorry..” you start, your voice small. you sit on the edge of the bed and rub your wrists, refusing to look up at him - you’re almost embarrassed. “I wasn’t trying to upset you.” you hear him smooth out the bedspread behind you. “hey,” he stands in front of you now, holding your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, forcing you to look up at him. “it’s okay. but i need to be able to do my work if i want to keep us safe. you want to stay here with me, don’t you?” you nod, and he pulls you up to your feet. “there she is. let me finish up and then I’ll be in bed soon.” he kisses your forehead and you climb in bed sksjjdndbb

- aftercare is blessed! he’s sweet when he should be - he’ll spread your legs, lift them, do whatever to clean you up with a wet towel. it’s very intricate, he doesn’t miss a spot. hell come with a glass of water, which he holds to your lips for you to sip because he made your body JELLY and you really can’t move. he’ll get in bed and pull you onto his lap so you’re laying on him, legs hiked up on both sides of him. your arms are around his neck, and his hands rest comfortably on your torso. “you took your punishment so well. you’re such a good girl for me.” he’d whisper into your hair and then night night

- he is a serious dom, but there is a mommy kink in there somewhere. he just wants to be held and seen, things he never felt with his real mom. so sometimes you’ll take the reigns..he’s never been harder than when you call him your good boy 😩 and when you hold him?? stroke his hair, he is sat. the “maternal figure” tactic didn’t work on him when Lady Raven tried it, but it would work for you

- loves to hit it from behind. he likes being able to grip your waist so hard it bruises, wrap his hand around your neck to steady himself, grab a fistful of your hair to make you look back at him.

[puckarchives]

kilby girl: l. hughes

blurb: in which luke takes meets his kilby girl.  / word count: 2.2k / pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

The first time Luke Hughes saw you, it was— for one, not something either of you expected. In fact, you technically weren’t supposed to be in the bar, and you were way too young to be legally serving drinks behind the counter, and it was a meeting that fate seemed to have overlooked for some reason.

The lights were dim and the music was loud— blaring an old 2000’s rock song that you were humming along too as you served the same rotation of businessmen in fake Rolex watches, frat guys trying to get your number, (or free drinks, but both were no’s,) and now, with the arrival of three of the New Jersey Devils, the occasional hockey player. 

Regardless, though, the minute he saw you— flashing him a quick smile as you went back to putting together the three beers the man next to him had ordered, your shiny gold nose ring catching the dim lighting of the bar, and replying to the drunk ramblings of those around you with witty quips and jokes, he was in instant goner. An. Instant. Goner.

He was new to the team, and he had been filled in— mainly from Jack and Nico— that the bar you worked at was lenient in terms of why they served— as long as the ID looked real, it was real, so you went along to try and garner as many tips from as many customers as you could. And, when he walked towards the counter to try and order said drinks, (two beers for Jack and Nico, and one of the fruity cocktails you kept asking if people wanted just so he could see what type of reaction he could get from you when he ordered it,) he was interrupted from the WASP-y Chad next to him, ordering three drinks as well, and stealing away your attention from his approaching figure. 

Regardless, however, Luke waited his turn— waited for the Chad to finish his drunk flirting, to which you had witty replies for, and tip you way less than you deserved, he approached the bar once again. Trying not to exude the nerves he felt looking at you up close— all pretty skin and pretty lips and pretty hair, he quickly mumbled off his orders. 

“Uh, hi— can I get two beers and one of those Paloma’s, please?” he asked. He said so in his quiet manner— a Luke staple— and seemed to almost fold in on himself. He was large, you would give him that, but you would have thought a man like him, regardless of his height but instead just his general demeanor, would have tried to make himself the subject of everyone’s attention. Instead, he tried to slide past those near him,and get out of the way at whatever moment possible. 

And, at first, because of the overbearing bass that seemed to be hitting every single note of Paramore’s “Misery Business” through the speakers, you didn’t register the words coming out of his mouth. The DJ, and old friend of the bar’s owner, had the music taste of an highschooler in the early 2000s, and made that fact very much clear whenever they decided to show up for their shift— playing everything off of their IPod Touch, and maneuvering from Paramore all the way to Fall Out Boy in a manner of minuted. 

The mouth attached to a boy with a 6’2 frame, however, now stood in front of you— a frame that towered over you and the bar counter itself, and that you could clearly tell was moving, but seemed not to be able to register what was coming out of it. 

“I’m sorry?” you asked, trying to get him to repeat himself. 

Luke, in his quest to try and get his order to you, picked up the volume of voice— and that’s exactly the moment the DJ in the corner decided that he was done playing this rendition of the song, and instead lowered the volume of the music— all the way down. Meaning that the bar, which was packed to the brim with twenty-something wannabes and hasbeens, went completely silent, minus the chatter. 

“SORRY, CAN I GE-” he yelled, before catching himself and stopping as the various heads turned in his direction to see who was yelling. It seemed, for a moment, as if he was going to burst into a puddle of embarrassment. You, however, kept staring at the boy in front of you with pretty eyes whose cheeks— and the tips of his ears— now resembled the red shaker you held in your hands. 

“Woah there, no need to yell,” you joked, trying to diffuse the shame he must have felt, and ensuring you said the words with the lightest tone possible. Luke only shook his head and looked down, still trying to trample down the embarrassment he felt. 

“DJ Davis over there is just known for his impeccable timing, and I’m sorry you were caught in his crossfire,” you joked, “but if you can look at me with those pretty eyes of yours and give me your order, it’s on the house, yeah?” you said, trying to make him feel better about the obvious crappy situation he had found himself in. 

God, you really felt for him. You had never seen him in the bar before, and especially not on a Thursday night, when your shift was jam-packed full of the regular crowds of business suits and polos, so he was definitely a welcome addition, and now that you had gotten a chance to actually take him in— the curls he kept pushing behind his head, the frame that filled out his gray long sleeve well, and the obvious muscle definition you could see from his hands alone, he was cute— and more than that, he was still looking at you with his puppy dog eyes. 

Snapping out of your stupor, though, you asked once more what he’d like, assuring him that “yes, it’s on the house,” and “no, you don’t have to pull out your wallet! I swear!” to fend off the hand that held a credit card in your direction. Once he repeated his order, however— the blood orange Paloma and the two craft beers— you set off to work, grabbing two large glasses from behind you, and then swinging around to grab another smaller glass for the Paloma. 

As you mixed the mezcal-filled cocktail and poured the house drafts, you set them in front of him, and once again had to wave him off as he offered his card to you. “Please, I insist,” he said, still looking at you with his big eyes, and trying hard not to smile in your direction, holding the card out to you.

For Luke, though, he was still mesmerized by you— the drink making had caused a slight rush of red to your cheeks, and despite piecing together that you worked at the bar, it was still such a welcome sight to see you in your element, zooming around the bar, mixing the drinks like you could practically do it in your sleep, and on top of that, still being so nice. 

Catching sight of the name on the card, however, you did a double take at the boy in front of you— a Hughes. You knew only one other person with that last name, (despite living in New Jersey, which was odd,) and as you looked away and searched the rest of the bar to find him, you landed on the hockey player you had come to know— Jack Hughes, and Nico right next to him in the corner booth. He was a bit shorter than the Hughes in front of you, and a lot tanner, but, despite what you told yourself, you much preferred the one in front of you. 

“Are you by any chance related to the creep that’s been staring at you this entire time?” you asked him, still not knowing his name, and once again pushing away the hand with the card in it. “And put that away, I already told you it’s on the house, pretty boy,” you said, and wow, he sure could blush, you thought, as you once again saw the tips of his ears turn a pink shade. You weren’t trying to make him nervous or embarrass him, it was simply your personality shining through. 

“Uh, yeah, that’s my brother,” he laughed, finally putting the card away in his wallet— which was Devils themed, how cute— and scratching the back of his neck. “Do you know him?” he asked you.

You stared at him, (again,) for a few seconds before meeting his eyes once more. “He’s your brother? As in, your flesh and blood?” you asked. He only laughed and shook his head. 

“Well then, please let Jack know that he still owes me a round of darts so I can finish kicking his ass, and tell Nico that I’m no longer allowed to serve him the poutine fries after what happened last time,” you told him. “And while you’re at it, mind giving me your name?” you asked. “I can’t keep calling you pretty boy in my head. People might get the wrong idea, you know?”

Luke scrambled to keep up with your fast-paced speech, and once he heard the anecdotes about Jack and Nico— both of which sounded familiar and were probably true, he only laughed and picked up his drinks. Now that he was smirking down at you— and oh, what a sight that was— he met your eyes once more, saying a quick “Luke. Luke Hughes,” before turning his back to you, looking back one more time, and making his way back to his table, where the other two cheered at the arrival of their beers, and where Luke took a sip of his red-hued drink. 

It wasn’t until you were able to peel your eyes away from their little group that you saw the small napkin laid in front of you— two $50 bills tucked into it, and the number of one “Luke” scribbled out on it. 

It also wasn’t until much later that night— now almost nine hours into your ten hour shift, where you felt someone approach the bar as the final calls rang out once more. When you got the chance to look up from the glass your were furiously wiping, you were met, once again, with the smiling face of Luke Hughes— and now, you could tell the slight blush on his face wasn’t from the alcohol, but instead his reaction to you. 

“Can I help you, man who left his number on a napkin?” you started. “Very suave by the way, but I would recommend you be careful where you leave that. Who knows what kind of psychos could have gotten a hold of it? Then who would be the rookie for the year?” you asked. His only response was a smirk— and god, it was cute— and a shake of his head. 

“Well, we really wouldn’t want that. Especially since it was clearly meant for the beautiful girl behind the bar,” he added. 

You caught on to his flirting, but just to make sure he wasn’t simply egging you on, you decided to mess with him one last time— ”Well, I’ll make sure to give it to Bertha once I’m done. I’m sure she’d appreciate the company of a stud like you,” you told him, trying to remain as serious as possible. 

In the blink of an eye, his smirk seemed to fall, and he stumbled over his words as he tried to piece together that “No, it was meant for you actually.”

Your only response was to giggle, a sound that Luke instantly seemed to attach himself to, as you replied. “I’m just messing with you, I swear.” 

“But, Mr. Luke Hughes, if I am going to use that number, I would like to to mean something,” you said. “Can’t just use it to get free drinks here.” You were hoping that his move actually did mean something — maybe it meant that he’d ask you out, or even just to start a friendship. 

In the two hour difference after your introductions to Luke, you hadn’t only Googled him, but pieced together the previous information you had learned about him from your conversations with jack and Nico, when the pair would come in on slow nights and sit at the bar, chatting with you until they were forced to leave because of early morning skates. 

“Well, I know I’m new to Jersey, but I would love a tour, if you’re free anytime soon?” he asked. Before you could respond though, you heard his name, and the mumblings of what sounded like “Stop flirting with Y/N” from somewhere behind him. You laughed at the voice, and turned back to Luke once more. 

“Well, I work most of the week, but I’ll give you a text, hmm? We can set up a time, and who knows? Maybe I’ll show you everything good that Jersey has to offer” you said.  His only reply was to smile, and before he left, turned back once more— ”That sounds good. Really good, Y/N.”

Funny, you had never even told him your name.

[chuthulhu-reads]

[ID: Five panels from Trigun Maximum. The background and borders are solid black instead of solid white. Before the first panel are speech bubbles saying, "Mama. Mama, look!" The second panel shows a small child pointing as his mother, a pretty woman with a kind smile, crouches next to him. In the second panel, the mother looks down at the child and says, "She's pretty, isn't she?" The little boy, still staring up, asks, "Why..." In the third panel, he looks up at his mother and continues, "...Is she in there?" In the fourth panel, the mother puts her hands on the kid's shoulders and looks up as she says, "She's... working." In the fifth panel, the mother smiles back down at her son as she says, "It's thanks to her that you, mama and papa can live here safely." The little boy looks confused. End ID.]

I WEEP over this flashback. They're introducing the plant to their child not as something weird or alien, but pretty. Not as a thing, but a person who's working, who's not just property of the community but a crucial member of it. In the next panels, the mother prompts her child to thank the plant in a way that looks both like a hyper-respectful Japanese bow and Christian prayer.

[ID: Three panels from Trigun Maximum. The first shows the little boy pointing up with a big smile. Behind him, his mother is looking back over her shoulder at her husband, a smiling man in glasses. The little boy is saying, "Mama, look! She smiled!" The second panel shows the little boy still looking up and smiling as, behind him, his parents talk and laugh together. In the third panel, the boy is turning away and looking at his parents, saying, "See?" as the father smiles and waves and the mother looks surprised. After the last panel, there's black space, and a last speech bubble saying, "She smiled..." End ID.]

She smiled. She smiled at a child smiling at her. She smiled at a child who was alive because of her. She smiled at the people who loved her and prayed to her and thanked her. She treasured them enough to remember their smiles even after being fused into the horrendous amalgamation in the Ark.

[ID: Two panels from Trigun Maximum. The first shows Knives looking startled, wide-eyed and sweating, the left side of his face flaking somewhat. The second panel shows him standing on a walkway over a huge mass of fused plants, an uncomfortably fleshy mess of wings, veins, and random limbs. Knives is saying, "Was that..."]

LOOK at that. Knives himself knows he's at risk of losing his sense of self inside that mass, and Chronica later says that plants don't innately have an individual sense of self to begin with. Yet one of those plants remembered some of the humans she once supported fondly enough to cling to that memory, no matter what; or, perhaps, that memory was so beloved by every other plant that saw it that they all kept it, all shared it and held it close to their hearts, all that love battering against Knives' shaky mental walls of rage and hatred and fear.

[ID: A chaotic double-page spread from Trigun Maximum. The first four panels show a quick sequence of Knives falling to his knees and gasping as he clutches at his face, his eyes widening desperately. The next three panels are thin slices, each showing a larger and larger number of random people, like you're pulling out from a crowd that just keeps getting bigger. Despite how many people are crammed into each panel, artistic effort has been put into making each face unique and distinct from each other. The next face shows Knives' face literally cracking and splitting into a number of panels showing the Project Seeds ships, stars in space, the shooting-star image of the ships falling, a sun rising over ruined ships, and the elongated arms of a plant reaching out from among folded wings. A panel at the bottom of the page shows Knives screaming as it looks like the flesh is actually melting off of his face. The last panel shows Elendira running towards him, crying out, "Knives!" End ID.]

I really think, at the end of the day, the plants don't necessarily mind being relied on as producers, because I think they love life and creation. They've held onto all of these faces, all these people who were alive because of them. Short of the horror of the Last Runs, maybe they take pride in what they do. Maybe seeing other lives flourish from theirs makes them happy. We don't know for sure, but for all the body horror in their imagery, they are still, ultimately, evocative of angels. And they're reaching out to Knives with enough love for humanity to fracture the walls in his mind that he's put up against the reality of what the Big Fall was, against remembering that he did once love humans, and then he killed tens of millions of them. Being forced to see humans as Vash and the other plants do--as individuals, as living things, as people--is literally tearing him apart. God this page is a real artistic flex from Nightow, both in terms of panel composition and just thumbing his nose at mangaka that draw the same three faces forever

[tokischaaaaa]

close to you 🌙

!hamzah x !musical reader

warning! : fluff, little smut

side note: okay so i wanted to look for songs that were ig similar to 6 FEET and i found lots of pinkpantheress songs SOOOO basically y/n is y/n, NOT pinkpantheress but the song that is made is technically by pinkpantheress so bla bla bla enjoy pookies

word count!: 2.3k!!

"i don’t know elijah,” you sigh rubbing your forehead, “this sounds like crack like bad crack, like im overlapped and behind.” you groan grabbing your phone to distract yourself from getting even more upset.

upset at the fact that a song that you had made with love and such integrity wasn’t computing when your producer, elijah, couldn’t translate your message in the studio.

“listen y/n, i know, i’m confused too but what if we take a quick break, grab some food and maybe light a joint?” elijah suggested.

“whatever fine, let’s go before i eat the microphone.” you giggle.

you and elijah head towards downtown to see what’s open this late, yall both walk a few more streets until elijah stops you.

“there!” he says pointing at a mcdonald’s, it somewhat looked better than other ones so they both decided to try this clean looking mcdonald’s out.

as they walked in elijah signaled to y/n that he had to use the restroom, as she walked to the register she was lookin at the menu then looked down and met eyes with the worker.

a young man with frizzy curly black hair and dark bambi eyes. his dark circles were visible due to the lighting of the menu right above him, his uniform hat was slipping off his head by the second.

“what can i get you miss?” the young man asked with a grin. it took y/n a few moments to respond to the handsome man.

“sorry, i’ll get a happy meal with apple slices and my friend will get a regular cheeseburger with medium fry.” she said looking up at the menu again “and to drink?” he asked while punching in her order into the machine “oh um just two medium sprites.” y/n yawned.

y/n heard a small giggle from the man infront of her, she looked at him then his name tag which read ‘hamzah’

“what’s so funny mr.hamzah?” y/n grinned grabbing her wallet out of her purse.

“you look exhausted, no offense” he admitted.

“yeah, making stuff sucks sometimes.” y/n tiredly grinned.

“what type of stuff?” hamzah asked while starting to prepare y/n’s order.

“music,” y/n said while looking at hamzah. hamzah stopped what we was doing and looked directly at y/n,

“no way! what type of music do you do?” he asked eagerly.

“i think it’s more like bedroom pop but somewhat hyperpop too.” y/n smiled, happy to see that hamzah was amused with music as much as she was.

“wow, bedroom pop was the #1 genre for my spotify wrapped this year, love that stuff. but, do you have any songs id recognize?” hamzah asked folding y/n’s happy meal.

“umm probably on tiktok, lemme play it for you.” she smiled and pulled out her phone. she opened tiktok and played one of her videos with the song called ‘just a waste’ y/n held the phone close to hamzahs ear, this gave her a moment to see him closer and see his features that made him so handsome. his sharp jawline, thick eyebrows and eyelashes.

“dude oh my god! i love that audio! dude i just met a celeb!” hamzah cried.

“ha! nice one, im no celeb but im glad you like the song!” y/n said.

“but what were you talking about making is hard, i mean i think everything can be potienty hard to make but what’s your problem right now with making music?” hamzah asked starting the 2nd order that y/n asked for.

“just the production, im here with my producer but we’re not seeing eye to eye right now. in simpler terms he’s not translating my song into a song.” she admitted while stealing glances of hamzah. before hamzah could respond, y/n felt a buzz in her pocket, her phone.

“give me a second, my producer is calling me?” y/n said with a confused expression. hamzah gave her a thumbs up and continued making her order. she walked to the corner of the mcdonald’s and pressed the green button to accept the call,

“elijah where you at, i thought you were just here.”

“i’m so sorry y/n, my roommate called me and told me my cat felix just started throwing up. i’m so sorry, tomorrow we can go back to the studio.”

“elijah i have to work the night shift, and you and i both know that we can only use the studio at night.”

“shit, y/n we’ll figure it out but i have to go im so sorry again.”

“it’s okay eli, take care of felix, sorry that im yelling.” “it’s good y/n i get why you’re frustrated, i’ll talk to you later, bye bestie!”

“byeee!” y/n then ended the call and sighed deeply as she approached hamzah who was almost done packing her order.

“bad or good?” he asked,

“bad, he left cuz his cat threw up and now no more studio and we gotta plan for maybe next week.” she said rubbing her forehead.

“damn, i’m sorry about that ..” “y/n” a few moments of silence occurred then a light bulb appeared in hamzahs head.

“y/n i’m about to end my shift for the day, if you’re not gonna eat that other burger id love to dig in.” he smiled. which earned him a giggle from y/n.

“sure hamzah,” she smiled.

the two walked to a booth and began to talk, hamzah talked about his side hustle of youtube and streaming. how he hosted weekly streams with a group he was apart of called 4freakshow.

y/n also shared her ambitions of getting a big hit from one of her songs either blowing up on tiktok or anywhere and getting that big check in the mail.

“it’s all about the money with you girls.” hamzah sneered.

“boy bye, you’re out here working for the money.” y/n said pointing to his uniform.

“yeah you’re right but you are too, your job is more rewarding.” hamzah shrugged.

“how so?”

“id rather listen to music or expirence is rather than be eating burgers or fries.” y/n burst out laughing moments later,

“so you’d rather starve and listen to music , no expirence music?” she said between giggles.

“yeah, i’m tired of seeing burgers all the time.” hamzah said rolling his eyes.

“okay i see that, but even tonight i can’t even expirence music.” y/n shrugged.

“wait, i think i still have my computer i used for my diss track and a subscription to flordia studio.” hamzah said thinking.

“you did a diss track!” y/n whisper-screamed, “shhh, yes i’ll show you but don’t spit out your drink it’s not that bad i think.” hamzah said pulling his phone out of his pocket.

he hoisted his phone behind his drink and laid it facing y/n. as she watched she couldn’t help but laugh at some of hamzahs silly moves with his friend. but the beat switch it was caught y/n’s attention. as the video ended, hamzah was waiting for y/n’s reaction.

“well..?”

“that was fucking fire.”

“really?”

“really, you said you liked my song, i’m being deadass and telling you i fuck with that song.” hamzah lightly blushed at y/n’s comment,

“do you know if you could help translate my song into a song?” y/n mumbled.

“what’d you say?” hamzah asked

“could you help me with my song?” y/n asked locking eye contact with hamzah.

“yes! that’d be so cool! we could litterly hit my place after this, but we’d have to wait a while cuz i take the bus home.” hamzah said slightly embarrassed.

“no shade man, you helping the earth at least,” she winked. another wave of blush appeared on hamzahs face.

hamzah finished his shift, clocking out with a sense of excitement. He couldn't believe his luck — an opportunity to work on music with a talented artist like y/n. they walked out of the McDonald's, the cool night air refreshing after the greasy warmth inside.

“okay, let’s catch this bus,” y/n said, pulling out her phone to check the schedule. they found a nearby bench and sat close together, the anticipation of collaboration buzzing between them.

the bus ride to hamzah’s place was filled with light conversation and shared headphones, playing tracks they both loved. When they arrived, Hamzah led Y/N up to his small apartment, cluttered with music equipment and posters of bands and artists.

“welcome to my humble studio,” hamzah said, clearing a space on his desk for y/n’s laptop. “It’s not much, but it’s where the magic happens.”

“It’s perfect,” y/n said, setting up her laptop and connecting it to Hamzah’s speakers. “let’s get to work.”

they dove into the project, hamzahs fingers flying over the keyboard as he adjusted levels and added beats. y/n watched, impressed by his skill and creativity. she sang a few lines, experimenting with different melodies as hamzah tweaked the sound.

as the hours passed, the room filled with music and laughter. they bounced ideas off each other, creating something new and exciting. The chemistry between them was undeniable, the air thick with unspoken attraction.

“okay, try this,” Hamzah said, hitting play on the latest version of the track. y/n closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her. it was perfect, capturing the idea of what she had envisioned.

“it’s perfect,” y/n said, her voice filled with awe. “you nailed it hamzah.”

hamzah grinned, feeling a rush of pride. “really? you think so?”

“I know so,” y/n replied, meeting his gaze. there was a spark in her eyes, a connection that went beyond their shared love of music.

hamzah took a deep breath, feeling bold. “you know, I think we make a pretty good team.”

y/n smiled, her cheeks flushing slightly. “yeah, we do. I’ve never had a producer understand my vision so well.”

hamzah’s heart pounded in his chest. “well, I’m glad I could help. It’s been...amazing working with you.”

y/n’s smile widened. “Same here.”

a comfortable silence settled between them, the only sound the soft hum of the computer. hamzah’s gaze drifted to y/n’s lips, and he felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her. he hesitated, not wanting to ruin the moment or their budding partnership.

but then y/n leaned closer, her eyes searching his. “hamzah, can I ask you something?”

“anything,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

“do you feel this too?” she asked, her voice vulnerable. “this connection?”

hamzah’s heart skipped a beat. “yea, I do,” he admitted.

without another word, hamzah closed the distance between them, his lips meeting hers in a soft, tentative kiss. y/n responded immediately, her hands sliding up to cup his face. the kiss deepened, filled with the passion and intensity they had poured into their music.

when they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other.

“wow,” y/n whispered, a shy smile playing on her lips. “that was...incredible.”

hamzah chuckled, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her cheek. “yeah, it was.”

they sat there for a moment, wrapped up in each other, the music they had created still playing softly in the background. It was the start of something beautiful, a partnership that extended beyond the studio.

“I think we’re going to make a great team,” y/n said softly, her eyes shining with promise.

hamzah smiled, feeling hopeful and excited for what the future held. “I think so too, y/n. I think so too.”

“damn, ima have to text elijah to lay back now,” y/n chuckled. hamzah joined her laughter.

without a word, hamzah gently lifted y/n’s legs and wrapped them around his waist. the sudden intimacy made her heart race, but she felt a thrilling excitement rather than alarm.

holding her securely, hamzah led her to his bedroom. the room looked cozy, filled with more music equipment, posters, and soft ambient lighting that created a warm, inviting atmosphere.

as they entered the room, hamzah set her down gently on the edge of the bed. he brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch tender. “you sure about this?” he asked, his voice soft and filled with concern.

y/n nodded, her eyes never leaving his. “im sure, hamzah.”

he leaned in, capturing her lips in another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate than the first. y/n’s hands roamed his back, feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt. hamzah’s hands found her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

they lost themselves in each other, the connection they had felt before growing stronger with every touch and kiss.

the music in the background seemed to set the perfect rhythm, guiding their movements as they explored each other through body to body contact.

hamzah’s kisses trailed down y/n’s neck, eliciting soft gasps from her lips. he paused, looking up at her with a mixture of desire and affection. “you’re amazing, y/n,” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin.

y/n smiled, her fingers threading through his curls. “so are you, hamzah. this feels amazing.”

he nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. they spent the night together, not just as collaborators but as two people discovering a profound and unique connection. the room was filled with whispers and laughter.

as the first light of dawn began to filter through the curtains, y/n and Hamzah lay wrapped in each other’s arms, exhausted but content. for the first time in a long while, y/n felt like everything was falling into place.

tokischaaa speaks: fighting demons out here in the middle of flordia with 2 bars, grind is real ladies 🫡

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

I’m in shock as they announce the winners of the hack-a-thon.

I entered a couple years ago and didn’t do very well, but I’ve learned a lot since then, so I entered again this year out of curiosity, just to see how far I’d come. When I saw my score was significantly higher than before, I was satisfied and likely would have left before the winners were announced if I wasn’t waiting for Asher to finish in the gaming competition.

I stand with the small crowd of people that have gathered to watch the competitors as they jump and duck and throw virtual blocks, and I allow myself the opportunity to observe him. His expression focused. His movements quick and precise. I become so mesmerized that when my name is called out, I nearly jump, forgetting for a moment where I am. I look up at the screen to see the words “First Place: Atlas Stephens” and glance around for a while before realizing there isn’t some stranger who coincidentally shares my name, I won.  

At the information desk, a bored teenager requests my ID and then returns it with a lackluster, “Congratulations,” and a slip of paper containing the details of where to pick up my prize.

I start making my way in that direction when Asher hops in front of me, “There you are!”

“Hey, how’d it go?”

“I got second place.”

“That’s great!”

“No,” he insists, “no, it’s terrible.”

“Terrible? Oh my god, you’re as bad as Lex.”

“Take that back. No one is as bad as Lex.”

I side-eye him incredulously, “Really? And yet you’re complaining about second place.”

“No, see, here’s the difference between me and Lex. If I had gotten, like, tenth place, I’d’ve been just fine.”

“I don’t get it.”

“If I come in tenth, then I know I didn’t stand a chance and I can let it go. But second? Now I’m going to spend the next twenty-four hours analyzing everything I did wrong or could’ve done better because any one of those things could’ve made the difference and gotten me first.”

“I see.”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

I shrug at him, “I guess I’ve just never been that competitive.”

“Interesting,” his tone is mildly sarcastic as if he doesn’t quite believe me but isn’t going to question me either, “How’d the hack-a-thon go then?”

“It was good,” I tell him as I fold the slip of paper into my back pocket.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“You’re not going to tell me you won?”

I let out a nervous laugh, “I didn’t want to rub it in while you were pouting over getting second.”

“A: I wasn’t pouting. B: I am perfectly capable of being happy for you and feeling sorry for myself at the same time. I’m quite talented.”

“Right, I’ll keep that in mind in the future.”

“Good. So, what did you win?”

“A computer, apparently. Some fancy model called 'The Immersive Bend' or something."

His eyes widen in surprise, “No shit? I should’ve been a programmer. I’ve been needing a new computer forever, but they’re so fucking expensive I can’t bring myself to do it.”

“Do you want it?”

“What? No, that’s not what I was saying.”

“I know. But do you want it?”

“No. It’s yours. You earned it.”

“I don’t need it. I love my computer, I built it myself, I don’t need another one. I only entered to see how I’d do, I didn’t care about the prize. I was honestly debating about not even picking it up, but if you can get some use out of it, then let’s go get it.”

“You’re serious?” He asks before letting out a groan, “I don’t know.”

“Tell you what, then, I’m going to pick it up and take it to your apartment and leave it there. You can do it with it what you want. Sell it, use it as a footrest, or hook it up and enjoy it.”

He finally cracks a smile, “Oh, so, you’re inviting yourself to my apartment now? Y’know, if you want to hang out with me, all you have to do is ask. You don’t have to bribe me.”

I don’t know what it is about the way he’s looking at me that makes me feel so bold, but the words come out of my mouth before I can even attempt to hold them in, “Do you want to go back to your place and hang out for a bit?”

“Yeah. I do.” His response is quick and definitive, like he didn’t even have to think about it, making it difficult for me to hide the smile that is stretching itself across my face.

“Okay, well, we should stop and pick this thing up first because I’m still leaving it at your apartment.”

“You’re not.”

“I am.”

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