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darnell-la · 2 days ago

Note

This is probably my first time reading logan x reader smut and discovering you guys for my first has been so much fun!

If I could possibly ask for a request when you guys are free and have time of course!Maybe Dark dom Logan x chubby reader?Reader tries getting logan to date and cheat on her with pretty women cause she's that insecure and so willing to do anything to keep him around cause logan is like the first hottest and kind guy she's ever dated?Of course loagn probably won't be too happy so he reminds her possibly?idk this is silly

note: we did our best to make this a dark Logan story, but not too dark so others can enjoy… we hope you guys enjoy it!

———

“U think he’s actually going to go for it, Jean,” y/n spoke into her phone as tears filled her eyes. She knew Logan didn’t see much in her. She swore he only got with her because she was hard to get.

“Y/n, what did you do? What happening?” Jean asked, but y/n was too busy trying to control her breathing. “Y/n- Hey!?” Jean asked, getting concerned.

“I-I hired someone to flirt with him. I told her to do her best, even touch him, and he’s letting it slide. He’s even pulling her in,” Y/n said as her hands began to shake.

Apart from her regretted this, but it was for the better to know now.

“Y/n — Why would you do that? We talked about this,” Jean said, but y/n didn’t want to hear it. “Why not!? If I don’t know, I’d think he actually liked me, Jean. This needed to happen!”

“I don’t know — I can’t see him doing all of this to you. He loves you,” Jean questioned her powers. She always looked into his mind for y/n, and never did it seem like he would do anything to hurt her.

“I-I can’t do this right. I’ll call you later,” Y/n said before she hung up. She wanted to go over to Logan, maybe even confront him, but how he looked at her, made her sick. He looked at the woman the way he looked at her.

It’s been an hour, and y/n is far gone. She hasn’t answered any of Jean's calls. She told herself that if Logan called, she’d answer, but Logan never did. He always calls her if they haven’t seen each other for a while. She could only imagine the worst.

“Of course, he never liked me,” Y/n told herself as she stumbled out of the bar she had crawled to. She had no idea how she would get back to the mansion, and a part of her didn’t want to go back.

On the other hand, Logan lingered behind her, watching her every move as he grew angry. He knew y/n was obsessed with the idea of him cheating, but not like this.

Logan had seen the messages between y/n and the woman who was set as bait. It angered him, but he didn’t say anything right then. He told y/n if she ever went too deep into her obsession, he’d have to do something about it to make her understand.

He knew letting y/n think he didn’t want her for this long would be a problem, but he also knew she’d get like this. Venerable and emotional.

The man continued to stalk behind y/n, smirking at the fact she went the way he predicted. Right towards his car, so it’ll be a shorter trip.

“H-Hello?” Y/n said as she stopped and turned around towards Logan who she didn’t know what him. He was dressed in all black, and his hoodie covered his face.

“Sir?” Y/n slurred as she slowly walked backward, feeling uneven about this man walking behind her hunched over, and saying nothing back to assure her that she was safe.

“A bit too dark to be out here with your boyfriend, ain’t it?” Logan asked, but y/n couldn’t make out his voice. The liquor had highjacked her brain.

“I-I’m on my way to him r-right now, sir,” y/n lied, which made Logan chuckle. “Oh, ain’t that so?” He asked as he got closer to y/n. As soon as y/n went to turn around and run, she was caught.

“Hey- No! Let me go!” Y/n shouted, and before she could say any more words, he covered her mouth in a rag he had drenched to make her fall out quick and easily.

“You see what happens when you play stupid games?” It was all y/n heard after she struggled to open her eyes for a solid minute. “Huh-“ Y/n cut herself off, noticing something was off, but she couldn’t put her finger on it yet.

“You really think I’d be worried about someone else’s attention, Bub? C’mon, that shits old — My eyes were on you the whole time, rather you saw it or not,”

“Huh- I- What’s going on? Logan?” Y/n asked as her vision came together, but not too much. She was still unbelievably drunk. She knows she can’t handle liquor, but tonight, she didn’t care.

“Drinking was strike one. Drinking without me, was strike two. Walking out of the bar alone and drunk out of your fucking mind, was strike two,” Y/n went to sit up but noticed something holding her back.

“Actually, you know what pissed me off all around? Those messages between you and some sad excuse of a pretty woman you sent after me,”

Y/n’s heart dropped when she came to a realization. Logan knew about her setup, and now she’s restricted. Her hands are tighter behind her back, and both of her feet are chained to both sides of the bed she was on.

“I love you, y/n, but this was unacceptable,” Logan said as he got up from the chair he had been sitting on for a while, waiting for her to wake up. He thought for that whole time, hoping he’d calm down by the time she woke up, but he seemed to get angrier by the second.

“L-Logan, I- I’m so sorry, I just really-“ y/n tried to say, but Logan wasn’t having it. “You just really wanted to what? Make me cheat? Set me up with some fucking whore or the night!? You think I’d stoop down that fucking low, y/n!?”

Y/n felt herself sink into the bed, embarrassed and a bit scared of his reaction. Will he leave her for this? Did she fuck up their relationship?

“I’m sorry-“ y/n tried to say. “Oh, you’re about to be, y/n,” Logan said as he stepped into the brighter side of the light, showing himself completely naked, that was when y/n looked down at herself and sat herself naked.

“L-Logan — What are we doing here? Where are we?” She asked, making him laugh with a smirk she’d never seen before. “Motel — Don’t worry, I got a clean one, with thick walls. Even if they heard you, they wouldn’t dare come in here and help you,”

Y/n was confused about what he meant by helping her. Why would they help her?

“Logan, you’re scaring me,” y/n said, but she wasn’t scared. She just wanted to know more about what he planned for the night. He had already knocked her out. She never expected anything like that from him.

“I’d like to believe that, y/n, but I know for a fact, you’re into this,” y/n took a breath as she watched Logan walk to the side of the bed.

“You always ask me if I love you — If I’d ever trade you out, and I always wanted to keep things sweet, but tonight’s not the night for that,” y/n watched Logan grab a bottle off of the dresser next to the bed.

“I am obsessed — I’m so fucking obsessed with you, y/n, I can barely breathe when you’re not around,” the man said as he squeezed whatever was in the bottle, on his hand.

“I try my best to keep it cool and stay calm, but tonight-” Logan took a long deep breath, contemplating if he should continue. “Tonight, I’m gonna ruin you — I’m gonna break you so hard, you won’t be able to put yourself back together to think about pulling that bullshit ok me again,”

Logan spoke as he rubbed himself in lube, usually, they don’t use lube because he goes slow for her, but tonight, he hadn’t thought about that for a second.

“Logan, I think we should relax-“ Before she could finish, he was on top of her, and in between her legs. “Logan- Wait! Wait, Logan, please let me explain!” Y/n cried out, and because he loved her so much, he stopped right at her entrance.

“I-I’m so sorry, Logan. So so sorry. I-I was just scared. I-I love you so much,” Logan stayed silent for a few more seconds before wrapping a hand around her neck, choking her just right. “And you’re about to see how much I love you,”

Right then, Logan slammed into y/n, stretching her the furthest she’d ever gotten in seconds. “Lo!” Y/n basically screamed as he repeated his thrust, pounding into her cunt as the noises of her filled the room.

“No condom — All raw — I’m gonna fucking breed you tonight,”

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hanamukes · 22 hours ago

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Uika and her inner monster, Doloris

Admittedly when I first watched It's MyGO and Ave Mujica 0th, I didn't really think much of Uika. She and Doloris are presented as such vastly different entities that my brain kind of glossed over her, because I don't tend to go crazy for characters who are presented to us as always being bright and warm. Even when the last episode aired and I saw her undergo the transformation from Uika into Doloris, it still hadn't fully set in for me (though perhaps this is simply because I was busy losing my mind in excitement about seeing Ave Mujica at all as well as the sequel announcement).

But reading the interviews that came out after the anime finished airing completely changed that. Uika is Tomori's opposite in every regard? She has a secret so intense it made her voice actress stand out of her chair and yell when she heard it? I need to know more! What on earth could this seemingly kind character be hiding?

I've been keeping a close eye on her content ever since, and it's slowly making me feel insane. So, in anticipation for the anime, as well as their 4th concert which will happen in December and thus give us even more Doloris lore, I wanted to compile a post on the both of them in which I will present my various thoughts and theories.

Doloris

Uika is, in the most literal sense, Doloris' actress. This could perhaps lend to many believing that Uika is not Doloris, or rather that Doloris is not Uika. At the same time, I want to pose a very simple question.

Who came first: Doloris or Uika?

Timeline-wise, Doloris came first. Can Uika even exist without Doloris? Can she be who she is without us immediately recognizing her as being Doloris? What came first was not "Doloris is a puppet persona Uika plays as on stage," but rather it was "Uika is Doloris from Ave Mujica." This was their intent; to introduce Doloris to us, and then to introduce this girl who has an identical design to her in the anime, who is seemingly her exact opposite. What weight could Uika's scenes hold, if not to tell us that she will later turn into the monster known as Doloris? On her own, without Doloris, what does Uika represent?

Doloris herself talks about wanting to be seen for her true self. Is Uika Doloris' true self, or is Doloris Uika's true self? Which is it that they want us to believe? Which one does "Uika" want us to believe? Which one is Sakiko, or perhaps Oblivionis, trying to convince us to believe? Who is "Uika"?

Our introduction to this character was not a Sumimi scene, or her consoling someone, or a frame of her smiling, or of her expressing her love for music. It was this.

youtube

This creepy, disturbing montage of Doloris, covered in blood, inviting someone into her cult. Inviting you into her cult. Inviting you to dig deeper.

Though if you want to go even further back, I would argue our first, true genuine introduction was Black Birthday itself.

You see, I don't believe there's any true and correct way to interpret Ave Mujica's songs. The songs are whatever you make of them. That's part of the insanity of Ave Mujica; of never having a proper answer, of always wanting to dig deeper. So I won't say this is that correct reading, but rather one of the infinite possibilities. That said, after watching the intermissions from their concerts as we currently know them, I can't help but feel their first 6 songs perfectly tell the story of Doloris. It goes something like this:

Black Birthday: Doloris' rebirth into her true self. The dyeing of one's purity into corruption. Finally being able to see what was once unseeable (perhaps the light in the pitch black darkness, which she discusses a lot in their stage plays). It's a disturbing birthday party welcoming the new her.

The Two Moons ~Deep Into the Forest~: Now reborn, she finds herself lost in a forest. The play sequence in the last episode of It's MyGO feels reminiscent to this song; Doloris straying into a forest (Loft Moon), while Oblivionis ridicules her, and yet she's so beautiful she cannot take her eyes off her despite the pain of having her heart torn asunder. The song even has imagery describing candles lit on a table, which we can see in the anime rendition of this scene.

Choir 'S' Choir: She's slowly giving in to the insanity of Ave Mujica. This song reminds me a lot of Perdere Omnia; when she finally stops her denial and begins to understand why the others wish to destroy the world. She's letting herself become an esquire, a fallen angel if you will. She hears voices screaming at her, and she knows she's being hunted down, but she keeps dancing anyway. She's testing out her new abilities.

God, You're a Fool: This song represents her inner doubts. What exactly are they fighting for? For whose sake? Why do they have to be in this situation to begin with? If God wasn't a fool, surely everything would be fine... right?

Mas?uerade Rhapsody Re?uest: She's decided she no longer cares about anything. No longer cares how corrupted she becomes, no longer cares to hide her dark feelings. She's just going to fully embrace it all, she's going to let herself be taken by the shadowy jesters. The mask is a part of her now.

Ave Mujica: With her mask as her skin, it's her turn to lure others in. She's going to corrupt you. She reassures you that those with masks will fulfill your any wish, and that even though this is a place of no return, don't worry, there's nothing to be scared of.

It's interesting, because while the songs can apply to anyone (the other dolls for one, and perhaps even the listeners themselves), I can't ignore the parallels between the story these songs are telling, and the story of Doloris as we've seen in the concert intermissions. (Regarding the Utopia single and the ELEMENTS series, those songs were written more to fit a specific narrative, and I don't think they apply to the dolls themselves as directly. That's just my own personal take on them though and is why I won't be analyzing them here)

As for the intermissions themselves, there's a lot going on in them and much of Doloris' dialogue isn't about herself, but I want to go over some general observations:

Doloris uses 僕 (boku). This is significant because she's the only one who has a personal pronoun that differs from her actress; Uika uses 私(watashi). Ave Mujica songs use 私 (watashi) as well, though I don't think this means much in the context of Uika or Doloris because it's just for formality (if anything, it's interesting because it's an inverse of Uika's narrative opposite, Tomori; who uses 私 (watashi) in her daily speech but 僕 (boku) in her songs). That said, in Quaerere Lumina, there's a segment where "Doloris" switches to 私 (watashi), which many found haunting because it almost felt as if those words came from Uika herself, and that she switched back to Doloris after speaking vulnerable words from her heart.

She uses 君 (kimi; "you") in an interesting way. In Perdere Omnia, this referred to Oblivionis. In Veritas, however, she uses this repeatedly in the context of "someone" who she wants to be reborn with. It's someone who extended a hand to her, and who took her mask off her. It's someone she wants to be with for the rest of her life, just the two of them. And at the end, she uses it in reference to you, the audience, who will surely attend their next concert. Who is it that removed her mask? Oblivionis, or us? (Like many things in Ave Mujica, my own interpretation on this is that it's probably Oblivionis, because at its core, this is a yuri band, and Oblivionis is in fact someone who we've seen accept Doloris for who she is)

Each doll has a specific thing they focus on: Oblivionis stands her ground despite everything but also talks about finding things pitiful, Timoris is logical and an observer who wants to be acknowledged, Amoris talks about her lost love and boredom, Mortis talks about peace and quiet as well as the beauty in death. For Doloris, the thing she highlights that the others don't is us watching her slowly spiral into insanity, and particularly as of Veritas, her sense of her own body (as well as this attachment to someone else, as mentioned above). She sees herself as an empty shell, which is true for the others as well, but on top of this she has a fixation on her mask and the relationship it has with her body. It's her skin, and simultaneously, if you remove it, below that you'll find her true, perhaps ugly self. It means a lot to her that someone could love the her that exists without the mask. (Is this intended to be foreshadowing for the relationship between Doloris and Uika, and which of the two of them is her truest self?)

Doloris is an embodiment of insecurity, and simultaneously, she's a ferocious monster when she performs. Rico Sasaki herself claims that she feels like Doloris possesses her when they hold concerts. Her voice is cold, bitter and pained; it's a far cry from Uika's speaking voice, which is so warm and comforting. She is plagued with sorrow, of which she would rather die and be reborn than have to deal with. Her ideal world is simply one of being together with the one who accepts her in all of her ugliness.

Uika

There's a sort of trend to Uika's scenes: when she's around someone else, she waits for them to talk or express emotion before she matches their energy, and when she's alone, she drops the happy idol facade. The very first time we ever see her, she's doing just this.

This is also apparent in two other (coincidentally Sumimi) scenes, where the same thing happens in each: Uika is matching the energy of who she's talking to, but the second she's separated from them by a door, she has an almost empty expression on her face.

(The fact this has happened for both Sumimi scenes, when Uika has so little screentime so every second we see of her is supposed to be precious, has me really wondering just how much she likes her "dream job." Also, I wonder if this is a coincidence: immediately after both of these shots, she looks at her phone and sees Sakiko on her screen which cheers her up (the first is an old text, the second is a phone call))

It's something that on its own feels a bit deliberate, but when you take a certain intermission from their concerts into consideration, it really does become something you can't ignore.

This is the one part of the concert intermissions in which Doloris uses 私 (watashi). This is what many interpret to be Uika's words.

To put this simply, she feels as if she's an empty shell who has to match the energy of the people around her. When nobody is there to give her something to react to, she reverts to that husk. This is exactly the vibe I get from a lot of her scenes in the anime.

(I talked in depth about these two scenes in my Taki&Uika writeup so please do check that out for my thoughts on them, but to recap for this context: it's interesting to me how she looks so "empty" until she reads Sakiko's message (and feels seen by her, thus breaking her out of that state; I also want to mention she never messaged Sakiko first despite having her phone number, which to me is such an explicit example of her feeling like she doesn't exist unless someone else contacts her first that you may as well have a bright red arrow pointing at it), and on the right we can see her matching Sakiko's energy)

And actually, she almost implies as much to Mana directly.

"It's easy for me to sing when I'm with you, Mana-chan." On the surface, this just seems like something she's saying to make her excitable partner happy, to show agreement even though she's exhausted and not nearly as excited as she is. Mana reacts, calling it a compliment. But is it really? Her wording here is deliberate: she can only sing well because she's with her. Because she's being seen by someone else. Watching all of their scenes, I can't shake the feeling that Uika would not "shine" as an idol without Mana by her side. Immediately before this, Mana's happily waving and thanking the filming crew while Uika gives them a more heartless nod. Uika's appeal as an idol is that she's "cool" (this is written on her character bio), so it's not that I would expect her to match Mana's energy in that sense (who's appeal is her energy)... but I do wonder what she would be like in this context without Mana, given she already seems rather tense even with her. (Here's an easily missable clip of her sighing the second she's alone)

What about her comforting Tomori? Surely that was the one scene where she was acting of her own emotions? And what about when she talked to her in the final episode? It's not as if she was matching Tomori's energy 1:1! She reached out to her on her own!

And maybe that's true. However, consider this: that happened after she got Sakiko back in her life. Is an empty husk still just a shell if the one who's there to look at her―and bring her to life―is by her side now?

Let's take a closer look at these scenes though, shall we?

The planetarium. Uika was there to look at the stars, which are reflective of her childhood memories with Sakiko. Then, she finds Tomori, who she recognizes as being from Crychic (because she attended their concert a year ago). I could believe it if she sat next to her because Tomori looked upset; Tomori has subtle facial expressions yes, but it's pretty obvious when she's hurt. She decides to sit next to her, but her seat won't recline (I've seen people point out that she's been there before, so she surely would have known how to put the seat down; I think this is very funny and could be true, though I do want to point out Tomori said "this seat works like this" and Uika was sitting in a different seat than we saw in episode 8 anyway). Tomori helps her and they make indescribable eye contact briefly before they go back to watching the stars.

Then she kept an eye on her when they left and caught her on the stairs. Pretty standard stuff. From the get-go though, she was matching Tomori's energy. This is really subtle and more obvious in motion, but when she's asking if Tomori's okay, Tomori's head dips down twice, and each time Tomori's head dips, Uika's dips down a second or two later to match her.

If it was just once, I wouldn't think anything of it, but twice? Why is she studying her reaction this closely to the point of replicating it?

Then this happens, and I'll just leave my commentary from a year ago because it still applies:

Uika stares at Tomori and the Crychic photo that she saw on their social media comes to mind. She focuses in on Sakiko and Tomori... but moreso Sakiko. This kind of goes under the radar as it comes across as her bringing up stars because she knows it's something Tomori clearly likes and thus could be a bridge of conversation between them, so to speak, but I can't shake the fact that thinking about Sakiko was what prompted her to start talking about the stars she can see in Tokyo. Sakiko, who she was separated from for so long and who she was only able to reunite with in Tokyo.

(As a side note before I continue, this conversation makes me wonder how familiar she is with Tokyo. I'm not well-versed in Japan's geography nor do we really know anything about Uika's personal life, but I do know she lived on an island as a kid because she says Sakiko visited her island. It's also her chat icon)

Another easily missable detail, but when she picks up Tomori's notes, she waits a second for Tomori to give "consent" (via eye contact) before she continues talking. I'll also just mention here that I do think Uika meant what she said about singing being something that conveys someone's heart, and I feel like this was the most honest she was in the entire show.

Moving on to the episode 13 confrontation. I'll be honest, this whole interaction is very weird and as I'm typing up this post I'm still not sure what to make of a lot of it.

Once again, Uika is in the planetarium, this time in the same seat she was in for episode 8 before she met up with Sakiko (starting to see a theme here). Then she spots Tomori and grabs her shoulder, calling her Tomori-chan. Tomori seems confused so she checks that it really is "Tomori" and says they met there before. She does the same thing she did in episode 10 where when Tomori shifts her head, she shifts hers too while she's talking to her.

I like this shot because it feels like she instantly goes into "handsome" mode when she realizes this girl is a fan of "Sumimi's Uika."

This is where this interaction gets weird, because Tomori says she doesn't know who Uika is, and Uika responds with... "I'm glad she doesn't." Huh? Even Anon herself says "Huh?" out loud here. I could not possibly give you an explanation for why Uika would be "glad" that Tomori doesn't know who she is. Why is she trying to get close with her if she doesn't care that Tomori doesn't know her?

Then she asks if Tomori's song worked and Tomori says yes. It still feels like she's trying to gauge her feelings (but for what?). Then she claims she doesn't know Tomori, they just "met at the planetarium before." Anon seems pretty weirded out still. Then she changes the subject and asks if the two of them are in a band. When Anon shows her her phone, which has all the band members listed, she stares at it for a second before asking if she can follow.

(Anon's face being cut off here is interesting to me given this is from Uika's point of view, and really what could be so interesting in that photo?)

The length in which she stares at it makes me think this is likely how she learned MyGO exists, though I can't really piece together what she gets out of this aside from knowing what band Tomori is in. Then she asks if she can follow them and leaves. The whole interaction feels so pointless yet so deliberate: we didn't get closure on Taki's character arc in this episode, but we got this scene of Uika following MyGO's social media account? I'll be interested in seeing how this is relevant later on.

Oh, and the most important part of this scene: Tomori never told Uika her name. Anon is visibly weirded out by this. Of course, this scene is also followed by another shot of Uika not having to match anyone's energy, looking stern as she seems to whenever she's by herself. (She's looking at Crychic's social media page and commenting on how Tomori is from Sakiko's old band, by the way; how did she pull that up so fast? She just sat down?)

Uika and Tomori are narrative opposites. The director for the anime stated that Uika is her polar opposite in every regard. Ricochi also pointed out that while Tomori's songs turn her human, Uika's turn her into a monster. Their episode 10 confrontation was intended to be them meeting before the Ave Mujica ball gets rolling, so to speak, in order to allow them to contrast greater when the sequel comes out.

In general, what I make of Uika's cheerfulness is it's reflective of something Ricochi said in regards to Ave Mujica as a whole: like the moon, she can't shine on her own, but when others look at her, a light glistens from her. It almost makes me wonder if she wanted to become an idol in order to, like she said in her introduction clip with Mana, "make others feel better too" with her songs, at an attempt to mask the fact she can't shine when she's alone herself.

Those are the biggest points I wanted to articulate, so below I'll drop some other observations.

Regarding the flashback scene of Uika and Sakiko as kids... Uika is blushing here when Sakiko is not.

Normally I wouldn't think anything of this, because that's just how the models are (for instance, Sakiko's casual clothes model seems to always have the blush regardless of her mood, while Oblivionis of course doesn't; Uika's model also doesn't have a constant blush), but this scene was hand drawn. It's more deliberate. I don't want to insinuate that this implies Uika cares more about Sakiko than Sakiko cares about Uika because I don't think that's what they meant here at all, just that these specific memories may hold different meaning to Uika than they do for Sakiko. Perhaps more importantly though (and even less obvious) is that Uika's hair looks longer in the shot of them looking at the stars than it was for their meeting and the bug catching. It makes you wonder how much time may have passed between those two memories. (I do recognize this may have just been a continuity error of sorts, but she is wearing a different outfit too)

In Sakiko's conversation to Nyamu, she hints that she got Uika for her band because of Sumimi's popularity. This is interesting to me because in episode 7, she absolutely... glares? at the Sumimi music video.

...Which makes you wonder how she really felt looking at it. In any case, I don't think it was just for the fame because you don't exactly call somebody and tell them to help you forget everything if it's just for the money. That's a pretty intimate thing to ask somebody, and especially for Sakiko who up until then had been actively avoiding speaking anything from her heart. We also know that Uika does the lyrics for Ave Mujica, so we can truly only make guesses as to what transpired between their talk and the final episode...

Oh, also, when Sakiko calls Uika, she blushes. Which feels pretty notable to me when seconds beforehand she was in "cool, kind of broody idol" mode.

As for the last episode...

When Nyamu asks if she can go to Uika's place, she says yes! It makes you wonder how close she is with everyone by this point, and also what her home life looks like.

This one is sold on the voice work, but she sounds super happy to get to see Sakiko.

This also happens at the end of the episode, when she asks if she can ride the train home with Sakiko despite the fact she got there in a cab. I wrote my thoughts about this here, but it is interesting to me how it implies she might not know about Sakiko's home life at this point.

For this line, it's not lost on me how similar this dialogue is in reflection to what Doloris says in their stage play immediately after; with Oblivionis talking about them being dolls, and Doloris questioning her every word. It's as if she'd turned into Doloris the second she put her mask on...

Tying it all together

What's striking to me is that in all the trailers for the Ave Mujica anime―which by all means will be where we learn more about Uika―we've only seen one shot of her.

The rest have been Doloris. From this we can presume that the doll lore from their concerts will be relevant to the actresses, we just don't know to what extent.

It's scary really, because... seriously, even if Uika does feel like an empty shell, there's more to it than just that. And despite all of my analysis up until this point, I have not a single clue what her actual deal could be. Even after I post this, I'll continue to watch her scenes over and over, trying to piece things together with what little we have right now.

I'll be very interested to see both Doloris and Uika in the upcoming anime, and in what ways the lines between them are blurred.

#seine writes #uika misumi #ave mujica

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fluentmoviequoter · 6 hours ago

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Brighter, Sweeter Days

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x shy!fem!baker!reader

Summary: Tim comes to your bakery daily, and you try to brighten his day to get him to notice you. When he finally shows you he has noticed you, there's a lot you have to tell him.

Warnings: minor injuries, fluff!!!

Word Count: 2.4k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules

A wave of hot air greets you as you open the oven. Pulling the cookie sheet from the left side and a muffin pan from the right, you smell the intermingled brown sugar, maple, and orange. After the hot pans have been safely placed on one of your bakery’s tables, you close the oven and remove your heatproof gloves.

“I really hope you have more maple biscotti because there’s a really cute firefighter and I can’t slip him my number if we can’t place his order,” your employee, Melanie, rambles as she enters the heart of the bakery.

“Just pulled some out of the oven,” you answer. “It’ll be about ten minutes before we can box them, though. Offer to throw in a dozen free cookies or a coffee traveler.”

“Yes, chef!” she calls over her shoulder.

“And stop watching The Bear before work every day,” you murmur as you check the consistency of a new whipped buttercream.

Several years ago, you opened your bakery in Mid-Wilshire, Los Angeles, and remain shocked at how well it has done. There have been celebrities who travel hours just to try your creations based on the good word of a few locals, you’ve had to close at lunch more than once because you ran out of food, and yet you’ve only been in the front of the bakery a dozen times since opening.

You’re shy, passionate about baking, and less of a people person than most business owners, so you spend your days in the back as your dedicated employees create a friendly and welcoming environment for your customers to come in, enjoy the atmosphere, and try a delicious baked good or slow-roasted coffee.

After the morning rush, during which you make three cakes, drizzle white chocolate on your newest biscotti, and decorate sugar cookies, Melanie returns to the back of the bakery. She sighs and leans on a table.

“How’d it go?” you ask.

“Good. Seemed busier than usual, lots of law enforcement,” she explains, peeking into a mixing bowl.

“Those are scraps from cake pops,” you tell her. “Help yourself.”

“You’re an angel,” she sighs. “A walking, shy so not much into talking, angel.”

You roll your eyes and begin folding chocolate swirls into croissant dough. “And the firefighter?”

“He thought they’d love some coffee but refused to accept it without paying. So, I slipped an angel food cake and my number into his bag.”

You nod and continue working on the croissants, but when Melanie continues to watch you, you know there’s more she isn’t saying. Turning, you set aside the spatula and raise your brows.

“My psych professor moved our exam up and I can’t come in tomorrow,” she explains quickly. “I know it’s your busiest day and I’m so so sorry. I can ask around and see if Cass or somebody can cover me.”

You wave your hand and assure, “It’s okay. I’ll cover you. Good luck on your exam, okay? If you want to leave early today to study or get some rest, do that, too.”

“Now I feel worse for leaving you.”

Tim turns his alarm off and sighs. It’s his birthday, and he’s alone. Lucy insisted on bringing cupcakes, and Angela offered to take him to lunch. Tim appreciates their kindness, but it’s not quite the same as having someone to truly celebrate with, besides Kojo, who he wouldn’t trade for the world, of course.

As Tim gets ready, he asks himself what he’d want if he was in a relationship. What would they do that would make today so different? Breakfast in bed is one of the first ideas that pops into his head. So, Tim searches for bakeries that aren’t far out of his way. One five-star option appears on the list, and Tim reads the directions as he walks to his truck.

As Tim walks in, he notices how nice the bakery is. There’s a line, but it moves quickly. He scans the menu on the large chalkboard over the counter as he waits, but he knows what he wants when his eyes drop to the display case.

An employee places another plate in the case, a birthday cake-flavored mini souffle that makes Tim smile. When he reaches the register, he forgets about the cookie that caught his attention.

You take another order and glance at the line. There are two times when you’re so busy it’s hard to remember to breathe, and you’re currently between those. Though you don’t love working here with customers, you do enjoy seeing the smiles on people’s faces when they find their new favorite.

Someone in the line catches your eye. He’s wearing an LAPD shirt, and you assume he’s a higher-ranking officer. He smiles as Mitch places a birthday cake souffle in the display case, and you wonder if it’s his birthday.

“Good morning,” you greet when he reaches the register. “What can I get you today?”

He hesitates for a moment, then asks for one of your jumbo cookies and two dozen chocolate chip cookies. Glancing at the menu, he also adds coffee to his order. You press the buttons for the two dozen cookies and the coffee, but make a note to include the jumbo cookie for free.

“Mitch,” you call when he passes again. “Take over for a minute?”

“Sure thing,” he tells you.

“I’ll grab that for you now,” you tell the attractive cop, whose name you now know is Tim.

“Thanks,” he replies before stepping to the side with his coffee.

You use clean plastic tongs to place thirty chocolate chip cookies in a branded box, then pull a jumbo cookie from the warmer. It’s already boxed, so you take a marker out of a nearby drawer and write Happy Birthday with a little candle drawn beside it. If it’s not his birthday, he’ll think it was the wrong box, but either way, you hope it’ll brighten his day. With the cookies placed in a bag, you hand it over the counter and thank Tim for coming in. You hope you’ll see him again. With your tendency to work in the back and the high number of one-time customers you get, you try not to get your hopes up.

The drive to the station is spent in silence. The radio is off as Tim enjoys what he considers the best cup of coffee. His mind continues to return to you, the cute girl at the bakery, who he could tell was a little shy. Your service was great, but you didn’t quite meet anyone’s eyes or engage in small talk.

After parking in the station lot, Tim pulls his jumbo cookie from the bag. The birthday wishes make him smile, and he shakes his head as he wonders how you knew. Granted, it could have been the wrong box or something, but Tim prefers the idea that you did it special for him. The receipt is on the bottom of the box, and he pulls it away only to see that you gave him the cookie for free. Maybe it will be a good birthday, after all, he thinks.

Tim enjoys half of his cookie, then returns it to the box to save for later. Tim will most certainly be returning to the bakery because your smile and the taste of the coffee and the cookies together are pretty close to perfection.

Tim sets the cookies on a central table in the bullpen and opens the box. He can immediately tell that there are more than 24 cookies, and he shakes his head at your kindness.

“Happy birthday!” Lucy calls as she runs to his side.

“Thanks,” Tim replies, in a better mood than the last decade of birthdays combined.

“You’re back!” you cheer when Tim returns the following morning. Melanie called to tell you her exam went well, but she had to wait for the essay portion to be graded, and you invited her to rest at home one more day while she waited. So, you’re at the front again.

“I am. Thank you for the birthday note yesterday,” Tim replies, smiling. He has a gorgeous smile, you think. “How did you know?”

“I noticed you smile when the birthday cake souffle came out,” you explain softly, shrugging rather than providing more explanation.

“I really appreciate it. My coworkers loved the cookies, too.”

“I’m glad. You want to try something else today?”

Tim smiles, and you unconsciously move your fingers to the side of the register where you can include discounts and freebies.

“What do you recommend?” he inquires.

“Our maple pumpkin biscotti cupcakes are pretty well-loved. I like the chocolate swirl croissant,” you answer. “It’s new, but..”

“Then I’ll take thirty-six of those cupcakes and two of the croissants. On one condition.”

“Yes?” you ask, furrowing your brows.

“Let me pay for it this time.”

You nod once and type in the order. As Tim steps to the side, you begin helping the next customer and whisper to Mitch to give the officer a small coffee with the excuse of preparing it too soon for a pickup order.

“I’m paying for it,” Tim insists after it’s left on the counter.

You ignore him, smiling as you take another order, and Mitch gives him the bag of cupcakes.

“See you,” Tim calls as he leaves.

“Have a good day!” you call after him.

When you return to the kitchen around 10 a.m., you sigh and set out to make something you think Tim will love.

Over the next two weeks, Tim comes in daily. He gets something for the officers at this station or just a treat for himself, and on one busy morning, he says hello and orders a coffee. You look forward to seeing him each morning, finding an excuse to be at the front during his usual time. He is the kindest customer you have ever had, and you want to ask him out. Each morning, you give yourself a pep talk and get encouragement from Melanie or Mitch, then get shy and fail to tell him how you feel. So, you find a way to brighten his day and remind him you’re there and you see him. You slip him a freebie, give him a free coffee, charge him for a smaller size than what you give him, or ask him to test a new item and get back to you. If it’s not on the menu, I can’t charge you was your excuse for the last one.

As far as you can tell, he has noticed you. He comes in and immediately finds you or keeps his eyes on the kitchen door until you exit. Yet, he hasn’t said any more than you have. Eventually, one of you will say something… or so you hope.

You’ve slowly opened up but can’t speak more than a few sentences before you remember who you’re talking to and get shy again. Tim asks about you, how you’re doing, what your favorite menu item is, what you’ve baked recently, and you gladly listen when he tells you about himself in return. It seems like you're getting to know him, but you still want so much more.

One morning, nearly three weeks after meeting Tim, you glance at the clock again. He’s late. Or he isn’t coming. As you leave the counter and return to the kitchen, you make red velvet cupcakes for a large order and try not to think about Tim. You didn’t say anything for three weeks, there is no reason to assume that he had any real reason to come back.

Melanie enters the kitchen, and you look up hopefully, but she shakes her head.

“I’m sure he was just running late or had to go in early. He’ll be back tomorrow,” she says softly.

You shake your head and begin portioning the cake batter into muffin tins. Getting your mind off Tim will be hard; he’s consumed every one of your thoughts for nearly a month, but you have a business to focus on and more customers than the handsome sergeant who was your favorite daily customer until today.

��Several hours later, Mitch is on the phone when the chime over the door rings. You wave to him and walk out of the kitchen, then stop behind the register.

“Sorry I’m late,” Tim says.

You remain silent as you look at him. He’s wearing a bulletproof vest beneath his shirt, there’s a scrape over his eyebrow that looks recent, and the knuckles on his left hand are darkening. Based on his appearance alone, you assume he was late for a good reason.

“What can I get you?” you ask, breathless, as you move to stand behind the register. “It’s on the house.”

Tim smiles, and you have to remind yourself to listen. He orders your favorite, then places his hands on the counter and leans closer to you. You nod, then blink and ask him to repeat himself.

“Your favorite,” he says.

“How do you…”

“You told me. I remembered.”

You lick your lips before whispering, “Why?”

“The same reason I know that you hate working at the register because you’re shy and it drains your energy. You’d rather be in the back with your recipes and music than up here with customers. The reason I know you own this place but don’t advertise it because you don’t want the attention. All of that, all of you, is why I keep coming back. And I’m really hoping that those things will be why you say yes when I ask if you’ll go out with me.”

You swallow but can’t form words yet. Your answer is yes, of course, it is. When you open your mouth, though, you ask, “Are you okay?”

Tim smiles again and says, “I worked all night and could really use some of your amazing coffee.”

“You missed breakfast?”

Tim extends his arms so his hands are closer to yours and corrects, “I missed you.”

“Yes,” you whisper. “I really want to go out with you.”

Tim nods, then thanks Melanie when she sets a coffee cup on the counter beside him. He sees your number on the side and smiles, but you drop your head momentarily to avoid the embarrassment Melanie provides.

“I promise we’ll do something you’ll like,” Tim assures as his fingers brush yours.

I’ll find the courage to do anything with you, you want to say. Deciding that is more of a second date statement, you merely nod and ask Tim, “Do you actually want my favorite or is there something else you’d prefer?”

#tim bradford fic #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #the rookie #the rookie x reader #fem!reader #requests #hanna writes✯

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strangelysamantha · 2 days ago

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break up with your gf ❀

steve harrington x reader.

warnings: infidelity, alcohol/drunk steve.

words: 1,447.

summary: in which steve has trouble in paradise, he goes to you for advice, and while your feelings are prominent, you're unsure of how steve feels about you. you urge him to break up with his girlfriend, since he is clearly very unhappy.

request: yes! from pm!

a/n: i need a speech to text setting except it just reads my mind instead. like and reblog if you enjoy. maybe drop a follow. asks are open, and i have alot of great stories in my drafts. thank you as always. <3

masterlist link

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you saw them in the hallways at school every day. you dreaded it. he sneaks up behind her, lifting her in the air. spinning her around, his hands tight on her waist. he'd spin her around, his full attention on her. the other students rushing to class, and all he'd care about is the brief five minutes he'd get to see her pretty face. small giggles would escape her lips, pure bliss commencing. he would pull her into a deep kiss, she happily kissed him back, her hands tangling in his brown fluffy hair. it was nauseating to watch. seeing them so entranced with each other, you slammed your locker shut, heading to class.

you didn't know why you couldn't leave him alone, let him be happy. have his little romance flourish and have him be satisfied, but something inside you craved his touch, his attention, a few times a month he would get too drunk. immediately his contact would appear on your phone, drunken words filled your screen. he was so sappy, talking about how his girlfriend didn't satisfy him enough. how he needed someone else that would please him fully. he asked if you could stop by to talk, while you hesitated, worried for a set up, you knew you would have regretted not going.

you knock twice, and he swings the door open. "thanks for coming." he got out of the way, welcoming you inside. you hurried through the door, the house was dim, most lights were off since it was so late. he led you to his room, gently shutting his door behind him. "why do you always come when i call?" he asks. his breath reeked of bourbon, and you started to wonder why you even gave him the time of day. "if you need someone, i will be here for you," is all you could say. he nodded.

"she just doesn't get me, yknow?" you follow along, glancing around the room. "it's like she wants me to be better, but in return i'm changing myself for her. she has me doing stuff i would have never done before," you tsk, "why stay if you are unhappy?" he ponders for a moment, "because," he pauses, collecting his thoughts. you wait silently, crossing your legs together. you mouth forms a straight line as he still hadn't given a reason for staying with her. "steve?" he looks back at you, halting his repetitive pacing. "i don't know why i stay, i guess i want it to work out..." he sits beside you on the bed. "you need to break up with your girlfriend." he stays silent after your comment.

you sigh, he places his head on your lap, and you run your hands through his hair. "if you're this unhappy now, how do you think you'll be happy down the line?" he takes a deep breath, your words settling ease over him. "i don't think she even loves me." his tone is laced with sadness, and your heart aches at his puppy dog eyes. "steve, you are very handsome. super funny, and charming. you will be able to find someone who truly deserves your time and energy." he closes his eyes, his hand wraps around your thigh. "what if i hurt her feelings?" you place your hand on his cheek. "but if you stay with her, knowing you aren't fully in it, and she finds out your leading her on, she might hurt more." he nods, appreciating your advice. he lays quietly in your lap; you look down at him. you notice his sleepy eyes and prominent eye bags. "you need rest, honey."

he moves to lay in the middle of the bed. you lift the blanket up, tucking him in. you get up to leave and he reaches for your hand. "stay." you nod, slowly sliding into bed with him. your nerves wash away when he cuddles you, spooning. he wraps his arm around your waist pulling you as close as he can manage. you close your eyes, your mind racing. despite all the times he talked about leaving, and moving on, he never actually did it. this was the third time you had went to steve for support, he'd tell you everything wrong, and any advice you'd give, he'd listen intently, and then immediately do the opposite.

despite how badly you wanted steve, you didn't want to always be a drunken late-night call. you actually liked him, and it was starting to feel like he didn't like you, let alone care about you. you settle into bed with him, you try to clear your cloudy mind. the sound of his small snores allows you to crawl out of his bed. you slip out of his room, headed to the front door. you make it outside, getting in your car and heading back home.

the first thing you see when you open social media is an anniversary post from steves girlfriend. your heart drops to your stomach, you always blamed yourself after going to steve. regardless of the fact he was the one to initiate, you still felt bad afterwards. you click your phone off, already having enough with what you saw. you lay back on your bed, your phone suddenly rings, and its steves contact. you take an unsteady breath, reluctantly answering the call.

"hey." he breathlessly states. "hello," you softly mutter back. "i took your advice. i broke up with her." your heart speeds up at his words. "really? how did it go?" he sighs, "it went okay. she wasn't happy, but she was glad i ended it before things got super serious." you nod, although he couldn't see that on his end. "i'm proud of you, steve." your words have his heart beating out of his chest. "i think i was pretty distracted during the relationship with her," you're puzzled by his words, "what do you mean?" he laughs nervously, "well, i'd really like to try things between us. so many times, i called you, because in the back of my head, i wanted us to be together." his words were the words you've been waiting for, but now hearing them you couldn't help but feel like a rebound.

"steve, i'm not going to be a rebound." you remark, and your tone hurts his feelings. "it won't be like that, i promise. you've showed me so much. you've allowed me to be vulnerable and my authentic self. you make me feel like a good person, without having to change myself in the process." you smile at his confession. "that means a lot steve, and i really like you. are you sure the wound isn't too fresh?" you question, scared for his potential response. "well, i know what i want. and she said she had found someone else too." you're stunned at this, "she moved on already too?" he smirks, "yeah, i guess she wasn't feeling the love either. do you want to come over?" he questions. "yeah, i'll be over soon, okay?" you stand up, grabbing your shoes. "okay, great. i'll see you soon." you say goodbye before ending the call.

you approach steves house, he's waiting outside for you. you walk up to his porch, and he immediately pulls you into a hug, you wrap your arms around his neck. he wraps his arm around your waist, squeezing you. you both pull away. he looks up at the stars, and you follow his gaze. he holds your hand, "can i take you on a date?" you smile brightly, "i would love that steve." he grins, "sleepover?" you bite your lip, "why not." you follow him to his room again, getting deja vu from being here a few hours earlier.

"thank you for sticking by me." he rubs your back, "of course, i do have something to admit though." he frowns at this but urges you to continue. "it was really hard seeing you two in the hallways." he stares into your eyes, "i'm sorry, i didn't even think about that." you shake your head, ensuring he knew it wasn't his fault. "i'm just happy to be with you here now," he laughs, "i wanted to say something sooner, but i was also so scared of the breakup to blow up in my face." you nod, understandingly, "i know, but aren't you relieved now?" you're curious to see how he is feeling.

"very relieved now," you two lay back in his bed, cuddling. "i couldn't have gotten the courage without you." he leans in for a kiss, this one being full of love and need. "what do you want to do?" you stare into his eyes, entranced by his beauty. "i just wanna lay here with you." you giggle, "that can be arranged." he pulls you closer to him, and the two of you lie there embraced with each other.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve fanfic #steve fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic fluff #steve harrinton

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blacklegsanjiii · 3 days ago

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•°♤°• Taking a break from ASL x Sanji. Now it's time for Zosan 😀. In this AU, set in the Canon, what would happen if Zoro swords has spirits? I know that you told me you read Kishi Kaisei by coffeeblues but I wanted YOUR opinion and hcs on this.

Okay, I've sat on this SINCE APRIL trying to figure out what I wanted to do and just banging my head into the desk at work because imagine Sanji meeting Zoro and taking care of Wado on the way to Cocoyashi with extreme love and care for this fucking mossheaded dumbass he met like two hours ago. He feels connected to the sword in some weird way and every once in a while, he feels like someone is watching him when no one, not even Luffy, is. Sometimes he'll catch something in the corner of his eye usually if he turns to look. Sure, Zoro talks to the sword, but he's kind of weird, nothing new, the whole crew is. Then in Loguetown Zoro gets Kitetsu and Yubashiri, talking them too when he cleans and cares for them. It feels like there's more people watching the cook after that and Sanji feels like he's going insane.

Until after Thriller Bark when he brings Zoro back to the crew with a new sword, Yubashiri's hilt gone, and just Zoro's blood soaking both of them. After he cleans himself up and takes care of feeding people he sits alone and cleans the swords and there's suddenly a woman in front of him as he works on Wado. She's not fully there and looking at Sanji curiously and Sanji stumbles out a surprised greeting and apologizes because he's covered in oil on his hands but he can get her something to eat but she smiles and puts a hand on his cheek before disappearing. Sanji has to sit there for a minute trying to figure out what the fuck that was before finishing with Wado and working on Kitetsu he sternly tells to settle the fuck down, Zoro's alive, because the energy coming off the sword is not fun for the cook. Sanji's not dumb, he's been a pirate long enough to know swords can carry carry the souls of the past far into the future, he served Mihawk all the time. If there's not something to make his blades cursed or whatever then Sanji is fucking crazy. Kitetsu, despite being a little shit, does respect Sanji enough to not hurt him when he cleans it. Sanji is always so nice, gentle and powerful which shocks Kitetsu and Shusui but Wado likes Sanji and their master respects him, a good match.

Zoro is confused when he comes to because his swords are singing Sanji, the idiot cook, their praises for caring for them in his absence. Wado especially enjoyed their time together outside of sparring which Kitetsu agrees with and Shusui says the man was nice, knew how to clean a sword well and holds them well. Zoro doesn't believe a word they say until like a year into his stay on Kuriagana when Mihawk points out his swords seem...lacking. As if their longing for something. Perona asks if it's the cook Zoro constantly talks about and Zoro looks at his swords and feels them grinning like fucking assholes at him. Mihawk simply hums something to himself about telling Zeff, ignoring the questioning from Perona and Zoro who is also having a lot of feelings.

When the crew comes back together and Zoro and Sanji finally get to spar again Zoro can feel his swords basically sing with how pleased they are to see the cook. He's not jealous just confused and Sanji keeps glancing at his swords too so maybe it's a possibility that his swords like the cook, they're dumb for it. He's annoying and prissy, sure he matches Zoro still, but only just barely! Zoro will surpass him soon and it'll be all over for the cook. It's still weird the cook is looking at them though because it's not like he can see or hear them like Zoro can. That'd be ridiculous, preposterous, unheard of. Zoro doesn't fucking believe it when they whine when they get separated again after Dressrosa. Even Law looks amused.

"Are they misbehaving?" Law asks with a grin like the cleaver Sanji uses to butcher seakings.

"Just keep saying dumb shit." Zoro mutters.

"Do they miss Blackleg-ya? Considering your history it would make sense." Law asks.

"How would you know?" Zoro growls.

"It's not exactly easy to dismiss how often you two spend together, swords are an extension of their master's after all." Law shrugs as he adjusts Kikoku. Zoro grumbles to himself as Wado whispers to him that Zoro misses him too and he should have heard how worried the cook has been for him. Zoro tells them to shut the fuck up in his head making them laugh. He listens to them mourn again when he finds out Sanji left the crew on Zou. When Luffy says he's going to bring the cook back Zoro feels a tension leave he didn't know he was carrying. On Wano though the cook keeps avoiding him or they're too busy to talk or Zoro's training with Enma after trading Shusui for it, he thanked Shusui of course but Enma is a demon in a sword and Shusui belongs in Wano, in their home. Then Zoro promises to kill Sanji and Wado is screaming that they don't want to, that he can't make them! Enma says they'll do it willingly and their voice is filled with glee as Kitetsu screams in fury and anguish.

It's not until after the raid, after the parties have calmed down and Zoro and his swords are calmed down from having to possibly kill the cook and crawling out of hell, still he doesn't ask Sanji about it. He and the cook are sitting together and Hiyori is still trying to fret over Zoro and Wado and Kitetsu aren't exactly pleased with the woman. Sanji keeps stealing glances at them and Zoro is growing agitated with the looks from the cook and the voices of the swords calling for Sanji instead of the princess. Once she leaves Sanji doesn't stop the glances and Zoro is growing more and more annoyed.

"Spit it out, Cook." Zoro growls at him.

"Why do I hear them?" Sanji asks suddenly, slightly panicked.

"Why did you ask me to kill you?" Zoro asks back. "None of us are happy with you, I don't know why they want you or why you can hear them!" Sanji is staring at him with a crazed look that knocks some knots loose that have been tied in Zoro's gut since Zou. Sanji steps forward and Wado is basically screaming for the cook to hold her and Zoro gives a jerky nod to the cook who does take the most precious sword from him and holds it. Sanji sighs and apologizes to them all for what happened it's just between his birth family and his past he wasn't entirely sure he would come out of the fight like he was before and he needed the reassurance that Zoro would do what was needed. Kitetsu and Enma seem sorrowful they don't get to take the cook down and Sanji mutters they sound just like Zoro who punches him in the shoulder lightly and grumbles as Wado tells Sanji how worried they were for him and how much they care for him and yeah. Sanji is bright red.

Zoro moves to grab Wado but Sanji pulls the sword away and grabs Zoro's robes and pulls him up just barely to kiss him.

"At least Wado tells me how you feel." Sanji mumbles looking away as Zoro blushes.

"Traitor." Zoro grumbles as he pulls Sanji down on top of him and kisses him again.

#im so sorry spade #zosan #sanzo #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa #answers #gods #im sorry

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storiesfromafan · 16 hours ago

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Easy On My Eyes - Benny x Reader

A/N: I decided to turn All I Dream Of into a series (?), as I wanted to do Benny seeing the reader for the first time. Also I have a few other idea's, which I am interested in exploring.

I know, so much Benny haha. But I will say I might have a Feyd series in the works...just not sure I can do his character justice. Were as so many stories on here I have read, and they are amazing!

Tag List: @psychocitylights @wavyjassy

She was all that I could see

She was all that was in front of me

Try to climb the mountain peaks

What if I only ever reach the sea?

Would you stay awake and wait for me?

-Easy On My Eyes by Stephen Sanchez

Benny never had an issue with women. They were always happy to flirt and be on the back of his bike. But when it came to his attention, when they didn't get it as much as they wanted, those women would loose it. And eventually they would walk away from him. Always wanting to change Benny, wanting him to be a person he wasn’t.

Benny doesn't ask nobody for nothing. And he doesn't want nothing from nobody. It's not him, never will be. Yet the one thing he wanted was someone who accepts him, all of him. And at times it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Then there was you. A quiet, sweet little thing, Benny had thought when he first saw you.

It had been a warm spring afternoon. He'd pulled up by the curb of the large park in town, his bike seeming to be playing up. Shutting it off, Benny decided to let it sit for a while and hopefully he could get it to Cal. So there he was, leaning against his bike and having a cigarette. The looks he was getting weren't the warmest.

The next time Benny looked up and around he noticed you, walking next to an older woman, who he guessed to be your mother. The pair of you were carrying a few shopping bags, that was when Benny took in your uniform. And it told him you worked at the grocery shop that you both must have come from. The pastel green and blue dress looked good against your complexion, and your hair was pulled up in a ponytail with a few hairs that had come loose framing your face. You must have been working when your mother went in to do some shopping, making you help with getting the groceries home after you were finished work.

Your mother looked to be the one doing all the talking, while you had a look of boredom on your face. You weren’t afraid to show that side. Most women were brought up to always be poised, proper and wear a warm expression on their face. It was an act, a mask that mothers taught their daughters to do. Young women were expected to be perfect ladies. Yet you might look perfect, your bored expression told otherwise. It was a breath of fresh air to Benny.

When you walked past him, your mother looked to Benny before turning away in fear. Nothing new for him. Yet when you looked to him, your expression was blank. But in your eyes, for a brief moment, Benny thought he saw a spark of intrigue. Not to mention that you stared at him longer then most girls would. Then you had passed him. Benny watching the back of you, and your mother, as you walked on. But then he saw you look back at him over your shoulder for a moment.

That was it. From that moment on Benny knew he wanted to know you. And he had told himself every time you were near that he would talk to you. But something would always stop him from doing so. Call it nerves or being self conscious, but Benny would always falter. And then when his chance was lost, he’d kick himself over it.

So when you were leaving the diner, and a few of the other Vandals were making fun of you. That was it for Benny. He got defensive for you. A quiet woman who didn’t seem to speak up for herself. So it was his job to do it for you. And the surprised look upon your face, looking at him had been worth speaking up. Until you got scared and took off.

The guys who’d been teasing you then turned it on him. Laughing and saying he’d scared you off, how afraid of him you were. And Benny thought they were probably right. Yet he could of sworn he saw hope on your face. So he wasn’t ruling you out just yet. Benny was more determined now to speak to you, to learn more about you.

For the first time in a while Benny had something to chase after. And he wasn’t going to give up, or let it go.

#benny cross x reader #benny cross x y/n #benny cross x you #the bikeriders x reader #austin butler x reader #benny the bikeriders

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jumpscaregoose · 1 year ago

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on my poll blog it looks like I might be getting some more people interested in shaman king so for my own sanity I'm making this

pros cons and differences between shaman king versions (manga and anime)

going to try to be as neutral as possible because I do have my own opinions no one murder me. also I am but one guy and though I am insane about it I have only been here for like 2ish years tops so I probably missed something

starting with: original manga run:

this was a lie I tricked you I have not read the original manga run so idk shit. I recommend kanzenban instead

kanzenban manga:

came out several years after the original manga run, "complete edition" with true ending, more chapters, and some updated art (I think???). takei's original vision for the story (or as close as we'll get), imo the best version (I didn't grow up on 2001 nobody kill me), pretty coherent story and themes with mostly superficial inconsistencies (timeline). has some bad writing/design choices that persist throughout every version. artwork is gorgeous and it's the "true version" so I highly recommend this version

2001 anime:

first anime adaptation. came out before the original manga was even finished so it is wildly divergent and includes a lot of filler. depending on your tastes this is either a great asset or a dealbreaker. I'm a fan personally put those guys in Situations. hits most major plot beats (although in it's own way) and has a very unique style. suffers very much from Being Made In 2001 so some things have aged especially poorly in this one. has only gotten a 4kids english dub so if you only watch dubs and want to watch the good version you're probably fucked on this one.

2021 anime:

anime adaptation of the full kanzenban manga. animation is a bit off model sometimes and it's only 52 episodes (should have been 64) so it's. Rushed. covers the kanzenban plot very accurately aside from a bunch of cut scenes (which were desperately needed to make the pacing not shaman king 2 fast 2 furious). if you have no time I recommend this one! also actually has a decent dub (certainly compared to 2001. 4kids dub you're hilarious but rip)

those are all the major versions I'm aware of so uh idk go have fun kids

#shaman king #every time I have someone say they want to watch or read it after my 7 It's Takei caveats I have to explain the 87 different versions #NO LONGER!#also think it's important to know what you're getting yourself into #so you don't wind up like me watching 2001 for the first time #hating it #and then going back in again and having a blast because I knew what it was

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hedgehog-moss · 3 months ago

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Last spring my neighbour asked if I could let Pirlouit mow the grass around his barn from time to time, which Pirou was happy to do at first but if I left him there several days in a row he got pretty sad about being alone (lots of wistful, melancholy braying). So this year when my donkey was hired for this job again, I went for a different formula: for the past few weeks I've been bringing all the animals to the neighbour's barn for an hour of landscaping services now and then at apéritif time.

The fence is extremely not Pampe-proof so I have to have my apéritif while sitting on the road in a strategic position from which I can toss a stick in her direction if she tries to escape, but other than that I've been really enjoying this peaceful evening ritual, just sitting there reading and watching the animals while feeling like I'm doing my neighbour a favour. Pirlouit doesn't get all the grass to himself anymore but I've learnt that he prefers to be rich in friends than in food.

You'll notice that Merricat is present in every photo, looking alert. She too has been hired, but for the thankless job of Thought Police. She may look like she's just napping on the warm asphalt with not a care in the world...

... but she is working! Keeping an eye on the llamas, always.

I've discovered that in a specific context my three cats can act as precogs and warn me of Pampe's future crimes. My theory is that they developed this skill because of Poldine, who loves cats. Any cat who enters the pasture will soon be noticed and (lovingly) chased by Poldine, who wants kisses. Cats not only do not want llama kisses, they don't differentiate between individual llamas. They are all potential kissers. So even if it looks like she's all relaxed, Merricat is constantly monitoring where the llamas are and what they seem to be planning. If we are on the other side of a fence and Pampe approaches it a bit too slyly, Merricat will jump to her feet, ready to flee (and I will toss one of my anti-Pampe sticks, and say NON.)

Merricat and I are a very good team! We've foiled several of Pampe's plots, but we need to be on the road for Merricat to remain wary (if we were in the pen Pampe's escape attempts would involve getting away from us and the cat wouldn't care.) Cars are rare so it's okay (plus it's so quiet you can always hear them coming), and on the few occasions when someone showed up and asked why I was having apéritif on the road, I pointed at Pampe and they were like, "Ah! Didn't see her here. Good luck!"

"Hedgehog-moss, you're exaggerating. Pampe can't be that—"

She is! She is. And she always seems to notice when Merricat is on a bathroom break and I'm absorbed in a book.

There was one evening though, when she got distracted by a fascinating new idea. I don't claim to know what's going on in this llama's head (except when she's looking at a fence, then it's easy) but as you can see, once I brought the animals to the barn Poldine started eating flowers, Pirlouit started eating grass, and Pampe started eating the wall.

After a moment she slowly circled the barn, then stopped and lay down right next to it, settling down in a comfortable position but with focused ears and her head still turned towards the wall. It was suspicious behaviour, but on the other hand she now looked so uninterested in the road that I decided to take a risk and run home to bring back some dinner—and she didn't move while I was away! I even brought Pandolf, who is usually banned from these soirées because he would disturb my Merricat alarm system. He was happy to be finally included.

It's unclear if Pampe was eating the wall, talking to the wall, or carefully examining various parts of the wall as Step 1 of 27 of a complex plan only she understands, but she stuck close to the barn all evening instead of lying in wait by the fence so I was able to have a picnic in the grass rather than on the road, which felt more bucolic. I know that "Pampérigouste has a new, mysterious project" is a worrying sentence but at this early stage (feasibility study) it felt to me and Merricat like a little holiday!

#crawling along #if you look at the Pampe & The Wall photos you can see the adorable little goatee i gave poldine when i sheared her <3 #it suits her she looks very elegant

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pedroscurls · 1 month ago

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in every lifetime

summary: you lost logan in this universe. logan lost you in his. what happens when you both see each other again, but realize that you're both from different worlds? pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), angst (mentions of death, loss from both reader and logan), no use of y/n. word count: 2.1k a/n: this is my first logan fic, so if anything is ooc, i'm sorry in advanced! just like everyone else, i've been obsessed with hugh jackman / logan after watching deadpool & wolverine (if it isn't obvious lol)... i had the song 'unchained melody' in mind when writing this story because whenever i hear it, i think of logan for some reason lol (tried to embed it but it didn't work, but i'd highly recommend listening to the song while reading this!) anyway, hope you enjoy! next part.

“I’ll be back.”

“But what if–”

“I always come back, bub.” Logan’s looking down at you, hand cupping your cheek. In moments like this, you can see the age in his features. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes. The gray in his hair and beard.

“Logan…” Tears sting your eyes. You know he has to leave, has to go help Charles, but there’s a feeling deep in your gut that knows that if he goes, he isn't coming back.

“Wait for me, then.” He says, dipping down to gently peck your lips. “Okay? Wait for me.”

“Logan,” you repeat. “What do I do if I– if I lose you?”

There’s a feeling in the pit of Logan’s stomach, a sense of dread and fear that he’s only ever felt when you were concerned. This feels a lot like a goodbye… That maybe if he does go, he won’t come back. And the thought alone scares him. He never used to have to think about the possibility of dying, his regenerative powers always healing him in record time, but he knows that he doesn’t heal as quickly as before. He feels more pain now than he ever had. And he knows he’s sick, knows that the adamantium that once gave him strength is now slowly making him weaker.

But now, the thought of dying… It fucking scared him. It scared him to think that he’d leave you here, all alone, grieving him. He had never thought he’d be deserving of someone like you, to be loved and taken care of so gently, so sweetly, so patiently. Even with all of the baggage he carried, you never pushed. He knew, right off the bat, that you deserved someone so much better than him, but you stayed.

Through it all, you stayed.

And Logan would forever be grateful. After everything he’s been through, the things he’s seen, the things he had to do, the people he’s lost, you gave him a life that was finally worth living.

“Then, you move on, darlin’.” Logan finally answers.

“And if I can’t?”

“You’ll have to.”

“I don’t… I don’t want you to go, but I know that you have to. Charles needs you and–”

“I love you with every fiber of my being, baby,” Logan interjects. “And I will love you in every lifetime.”

And that was almost a year ago. The moment he stopped calling, you knew that was it. That he either got into some real trouble or… Or that he was no longer here. It wasn’t until a young girl named Laura showed up on your doorstep, holding his dog tags that your assumptions were correct.

You had fallen to your knees, a sob escaping your lips, as you felt your world come crashing down. Logan’s death had left a gaping hole in your heart, in your life, and everywhere you looked and everywhere you went, all you could see was him.

You learned from Laura that during his last moments, he had told her to come and find you, that you would take care of her and give her a good life. Whenever you were around her, you tried to be strong, tried to put on a brave front, but behind closed doors, you were a complete mess. There were days where you didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t want to eat; you just wanted the pain to stop. Every night, whenever you closed your eyes, you forced yourself to sleep because that was the only place where you could be with him.

In your dreams, he was alive.

In your dreams, he had made it back home.

In your dreams, he was here with you, helping raise Laura.

And every time you woke up, you were welcomed with the sudden reality that he wasn’t alive. He wasn’t coming back home. He wasn’t ever going to be here with you to help raise Laura.

Logan was dead and now, you had to try and learn how to move on.

For yourself.

For Laura.

For Logan.

—

He didn’t know what he was doing here, why he agreed to stay with Wade because it was driving him crazy. This wasn’t even his timeline; he wasn’t even meant to be here. Despite saving Wade’s timeline, Logan still found it hard to fit in. He tried to keep Wade and every single one of his friends at an arm's distance because he knows what happens to people he cares about.

But the more time he spent around them, the more he felt at ease. Logan would be lying if he said he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but when Laura mentioned your name at one of Wade’s family dinners, his heart skipped a beat. When he realized he would be able to stay in this timeline, you were all he could think about.

Logan wondered if you existed in this world and what he would do if you did. So, when Laura casually said your name, his head turned around so quickly that he felt dizzy. There were so many things he regretted in his own timeline, but you were his biggest regret.

Just like he failed the other X-men, Logan had failed you too. You had been there with the other X-men, trying to warn them of a planned attack and ended up getting caught in the crossfire. You had called out for him, just like Scott, like Charles, like Storm.

He managed to get to you before you had taken your last breath, holding you in his arms. Logan begged and begged for you to fight, that he’d do things right from now on as long as you just held on, but you were losing so much blood and Logan couldn’t stop it.

Even then, when you had every right to be angry with him, you gazed up at him with an understanding look on your face. You had always been so patient and kind, so sweet and considerate. You had made him so happy and it scared him, which ultimately ended in pushing you away because he didn’t think he was deserving of it. Of you.

“I love you, Logan,” you had said, wincing at the pain.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m–” Logan felt a sob catch in his throat, tears stinging his eyes as he looked down at you. “Please, baby, please please please, don’t–”

“I–” you coughed, eyes fluttering as you felt the pain overcome your entire body. “I will love you in every lifetime, Logan.” And then, you took your last breath, eyes falling shut and body falling limp in his arms.

Since then, Logan drank himself day after day, from dawn to dusk. The alcohol never truly helped, his regenerative powers sobering him so fast, but with every swig of liquor, it burned. And he spent years bringing pain unto others, including himself.

That was, until he met Wade who had given him a chance, a reason to fight for something… To not turn his back on someone who relied on him. A chance for redemption, to finally make things right.

“So, will you meet her?” Laura asks, holding Dogpool in her arms as she gazes up at Logan. “She– She used to be with this universe’s Logan and…”

“No chance, kid.” Logan interrupts, shaking his head. “I’m not him.”

“Did you have someone like her in yours?” she asks. “She’s always put me first, always made sure I was taken care of even when she didn’t have to, when she was grieving. And I think–” Laura sighs. “I think if she knows that some version of you is alive, it would make her real happy.”

“I’m not him,” Logan growls, feeling his irritation spike. “‘Sides, she’s better off without me.” He stands from the table and walks out into Wade’s balcony to get some fresh air, shutting the door behind him as he leans against the railing.

“But she’s coming tonight,” Laura finally says, long after Logan’s walked away.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, Logan remains outside. He can hear the muffled laughter coming from inside and it only angered him because it was just another confirmation that he didn’t belong here. He’s already on his fourth bottle of beer when he hears a familiar voice, smells a recognizable scent. He turns slightly and catches you stepping into Wade’s apartment, an arm slinging over Laura’s shoulders so casually, so maternally.

He feels his heart rate pick up. Your smile still lights up a room and he can’t help but his lips turning upwards at the sight. With his enhanced hearing, Logan can hear your voice and he shuts his eyes for a moment, tuning all of his attention on you until you’re the only one he hears.

Then, he hears your laugh and he lets out a sigh. He never thought he’d be able to hear that again, but his eyes shoot open when he hears you say his name. There’s a shocked tone in your voice, laced with sadness and hope. It all but crushes him because he knows that you’re probably expecting someone else, expecting this world’s Logan and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. Not again. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it if he were to hurt you again.

But when he looks at you, his breath catches in his throat when your eyes meet his. Logan notices the surprise look on your face, but before he could try and escape, you’re already walking towards him. When you open the door and step out with him, your scent fills his senses and it makes him dizzy, like he can’t fully concentrate.

“You…” he hears you say, voice unsteady. “You’re not… I’m–” you sigh and shake your head.

“I know who you are,” Logan finally says, his own voice shaky.

Your hands reach out for him, but stopping halfway when you realize this isn’t your Logan. This is not the same man who died all those years ago. This is some version of him – much younger, less wrinkles and gray hairs in his hair and beard, but he still has that same look on his face. The scowl.

“From Laura?” you ask hesitantly.

“From my universe,” Logan answers.

“There– There’s a version of me in your universe?”

“There was.”

“And what happened to me?”

Logan’s jaw tightens. “The same thing that happened to your Logan in this universe.”

“Oh.” Your face drops, eyes softening. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.

Logan wants to run far from here, far from you because he feels himself yearning for more. He almost forgot how it felt like to be near you, to be inches away that he can just reach out and pull you into his arms. Your eyes captivate him, the kindness it expresses makes him feel like he matters. You had always made him feel that way that even through all of his anger, through all of the walls he put up, you showed him that he was deserving of something good. Even if he didn’t believe it himself.

And you… You were the best thing to ever happen to him.

“Don’t know why you’re apologizin’,” Logan mutters.

There’s an uncomfortable silence that engulfs the both of you. He can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the way your lower lip is beginning to tremble and he has this sudden urge to console you, to wipe away the tears that have now fallen down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, bringing your hands up to wipe away the tears that seem to be trickling down your face nonstop. “I just– Losing my Logan just crushed me and I don’t think I’ve ever recovered.”

My Logan.

Logan can practically feel his heart beating in his chest. This isn’t a conversation that he thought he would be having and certainly not with someone he loved and died because of him.

“That’s okay,” Logan responds quietly, his tone softening. “I don’t think it’s easy to recover from losing someone you love.”

“Did you– Did you love me in your universe?”

Logan nods slowly, tightening his jaw as he gazes down at you. “With every fiber of my being.”

Your eyes widen and stare up at him. This might be a different Logan, but hearing those words again just brings you back to the moment you last saw your Logan before he left to go take care of Charles.

“Did you love me in yours?” Logan asks hesitantly.

You nod instantly, tears trickling down your cheek as you stare up at him. “I’d love you in every lifetime.”

Logan feels his own set of tears pool at the corners of his eyes and he moves a hand to rest on the railing, fingers lightly brushing against yours as he stares into your eyes.

“I’m not him,” he whispers.

“I know,” you say quietly. “And I’m not her.”

#hugh jackman wolverine #hugh jackman character #logan howlett #wolverine #worst wolverine #deadpool & wolverine #logan howlett fanfic #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine fanfic #wolverine fanfiction #worst wolverine fanfic #worst wolverine fanfiction #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #post deadpool & wolverine #worst logan!variant #hugh jackman #logan howlett x f!reader

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signedsfs · 1 month ago

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I've got some great fuckin news

Once again got a bee in my bonnet to spend a night doing obscure fandom research to make a point, so. For all those people who keep making the annoying, "Tim keeps '''stealing'' other peoples' names" comments -- have a table.

Everyone with a check mark has used that codename at some point in DC's 80+ year continuity -- Elseworlds and alternate dimensions/timelines count, adaptations (movies, video games, cartoons, etc.) don't unless they've got comic book tie-ins, and neither do in-universe dream sequences/illusions/fantasies/other narrative elements that are objectively "not real" within the boundaries of the fiction.

A purple marker indicates an element that only applies in Elseworlds or alternate timelines. Yellow is for the originator of the legacy title. Star symbol is for borderline cases/extenuating circumstances/it's open to interpretation (with some further elaboration below).

The "other" column is just there to account for people who've held lesser or non-legacy titles, like Renegade, Wingman, Arkham Knight, Drake, Redbird, Talon, Deadman, Black Bat, Orphan and Catwoman.

Point being: the people who have actually gone through the most legacy titles in this family are Dick, Babs and Jason, tied with 5 each (again, not counting "other;" if we counted those separately Dick would've had by far the most). Tim is tied with Steph AND Helena Wayne, so unless you're whining about them "stealing other peoples' names" you're just wrong, and they're all only one higher than Damian, Carrie and Bruce.

This is a legacy family that passes their codenames up and down the inheritance line. It's what they do. It's not a legitimate criticism to level at one character and not the others. Please get over it.

EDIT: I realize after posting this that I missed some colors on the table, mostly with Babs' Elseworld only roles (Batwoman and Nightwing) but I'm too tired to go back and correct them; refer to the info below for more details.

---

Further elaboration on some of the lesser known/niche cases:

- Bruce uses the Robin ID in Superman & Batman: Generations

- In the second half of Thrillkiller ‘62, Babs cuts her hair and dons the Robin costume worn by her deceased partner Dick to get revenge on his killer; however the only name ever used for her in the series is Batgirl

- Cassandra was a member of the Robins orphan gang from Dark Knights of Steel.

- Duke was a member of the We Are Robins gang, as well as the aforementioned DKS orphan gang, and has appeared as Robin in a couple of Elseworlds, including I believe a White Knight spin-off.

- Cass was Batwoman in one of the versions of the Titans Tomorrow, as was Bette Kane, depending on changes to the timeline.

- Babs is Batwoman in the Batman ‘66 comics and in the 1980 story “The Secret Origin of Bruce (Superman) Wayne”

- Earth-3 Steph is Batwoman in Young Justice 2019.

- Helena Wayne is Batwoman in the possible future story Last Rites

- Tim is a member of the Batgirls vigilante/little league baseball team in the DC Bombshells universe, as is Cullen Row. Some call them the “Batboys” instead. I call those people cowards.

- Helena Bertinelli wore the costume that would later become Cass’s signature Batgirl look during No Man’s Land. However, she was more often referred to as “The Bat” and her Batgirl status is up to individual interpretation.

- Dick didn’t originate the Nightwing name, it started with Clark in the Silver Age.

- Steph has never been Nightwing. The panel where she appears in the costume is a Black Mercy illusion that happens only in her own mind. It’s a dream sequence.

- Barbara was Nightwing in the Smallville Season 11 comics.

- Terry was briefly Nightwing in volume 4 of Batman Beyond.

- Damian briefly became Nightwing after accidentally killing Dick in the Injustice series.

- Dick is Oracle in the “Eight Wonders of the World” version of Earth 2 (aka the Black Superman dimension)

#batrant #I don't have to rant just to drop a great fic link but....the original post #in this house we love....tables. we love graphs. we love data and facts and autism #anyway becoming a Tim Drake fan is the worst thing that's ever happened to me send help #how come when other characters get misinterpreted they get Benefits or at least Shallow But Positive Caricatures #but I get 'tim is boring he's just there he doesn't do anything'#'tim is just a sexist asshole he's not even that good' 'tim is so pathetic he has beef with a 9 year old for literally no reason'#'tim is incapable of doing anything ever' 'tim is just a tiny bruce (derogatory)' 'tim deserves Every Bad Thing actually'#'tim is overrated' (where???) 'I see him everywhere' (sHOW ME WHERE...I WANT TO LIVE THERE) 'they make him too perfect' (I DOUBT IT)#'they make everyone coddle him' (maybe he Deserves It after getting Decades of NO CODDLING AT ALL)#'he doesn't have a Thing' (bitch he IS the thing) 'he stole everything from Dick' (Dick also 'Stole' shit from Tim #Robins literally share so much shit across media that some people don't know there's more than one)#(...cannot believe I read with my own eyes that DICK was the first Robin with pants.....IN KINGDOM COME.)#side note: Tim started calling his shit Redname BEFORE Dick became Red Robin. so I've decided that shit was always meant to be his :)#side side note: DAMIAN GOT NAMED AFTER TIM'S FUCKING CAR BUT WHO'S TALKING ABOUT THAT???#people think Tim's a self-insert but he has.....traits that are. definitely not something you would give a normal blank self-insert #like even from his Intro...were most comic readers little stalker freaks that wanted to travel alone to a hero's civilian home???#little weirdos that wanted to watch their heroes with binoculars?? and break into their old apartment to look for clues and steal shit??#did readers want to be the first and only Explicitly Unwanted But 'Needed' Robin that Defined just how Bad everyone was doing??#did they beg to be parentified and made responsible for grownass adults' violent outbursts despite not being Trapped in the situation???#were readers inserting themselves on That???? Tim sometimes has relatable shit Happen To Him but his Reactions.....#he is not a blank self-insert. he is not there to have a good cathartic time. he's there to suffer and be a punching bag.#also...I know it's Fanon that Tim stalked them Nightly (a fanon I will Always engage with god bless) but like #he Did get Concerningly Clear Close-ups of a Fast-Paced Fight for his 'first time'. he Did have info that he couldn't get from the news.#he Did have a concerning amount of ease with crossing state lines alone to 'follow' Dick Grayson.#and he was sure fuckin quick on that shutter button for someone who had No interest in photography/Never Once stalked his heroes up close.#I don't necessarily think he got rescued by Jason or eavesdropped on a bunch of important events or anything but like...I just think.#he lived in Multiple Residences within Gotham. not in Bristol. he didn't have to bike anywhere to see them. I'm just fuckin saying.

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2hightocare · 30 days ago

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COFFEE!

“I think I'm past obsessed at this point, there has to be another word in the dictionary that tops obsessed.”

Synopsis: in which a hopeless romantic falls in love with the man of her dreams…

Pairings: boyfriend!jeongguk x fem!reader

Genre: established relationship.. non idol au

Warnings: literally the most sappy thing I could have possibly written, was listening to ‘coffee’ by miguel while writing, they’re such a gentle love, reader is a book worm, Jungkook likes drawing (doodling) plus points when his drawings are about oc, mentions of their first time having sex, usage of book quotes (read nltm, had to use the mia and sebastian line for my own sanity) <3333333

authors note: this is so simple but my book worm hopeless romantic needed this.. wrote this while high so nothing new 🤍

They say falling in love is the most beautiful feeling in the world.

You couldn’t explain the immediate sensation, the feeling that spreads throughout your chest as if you were a black-and-white picture that suddenly starts to fill with vibrant colors anytime his eyes lock with yours.

It was astonishing how the universe works—the idea that you are destined for someone ever since you are born, and that all the hardships along the way shape you into the person you need to be to meet them.

Your heartbeat thumped loudly in your ears as you watched him laugh from across the room, an oversized hoodie and baggy jeans covering his lean, muscular figure—one you’d memorized to the tiniest detail. You knew every freckle and scar. His head was thrown back, arms crossed, as he paid attention to whatever the guy in front of him was saying.

You scrunched your nose, using your index finger to push your glasses up as you studied your boyfriend from afar. You weren’t sure whether to call it pathetic or endearing, the way you noticed every little crease on his forehead and the way he toyed with his bottom lip absentmindedly. You even took note of his long eyelashes, and nearly died of jealousy every time you counted them when he slept beside you.

It was gut-wrenching to imagine anyone else feeling about him the way you did. The thought alone made you want to puke in the nearest trash can.

You were lovesick for this man, and you could already feel the heat rising to your cheeks whenever you looked at him or heard his laugh. Not only did you want to scream and freak out over every little thing he did, but he also had you daydreaming constantly. You found yourself thinking of silly song lyrics that resonated with how you felt about him. Staring at his side profile, you finally understood the meaning behind Suki Waterhouse’s lyrics: “Oh, my good looking boy,” echoed in your mind.

Before you could form another lyric or recall a favorite book quote to describe your feelings, his eyes found yours. A small smile tugged at his lips as his gaze scanned your expressions, reading you as if you were an open book. You smiled, tilting your head to the side, trying to hide the makeshift fireworks going off in your tummy.

His gaze softened, and it made your breath waver. You had never understood the meaning of “his gaze softened” in books, but now, you understood every syllable of those words after experiencing it firsthand.

You honestly couldn’t think of a single thing you didn’t love about him. You loved everything about him, even the parts he claimed were too “broken” or “damaged” to be loved.

A few seconds passed before he finally said his goodbyes and began making his way back to you. Your eyes followed every step, catching the grin he wore.

“I don’t know, I pretty much think you’re obsessed with me,” your boyfriend teased, his straight teeth on full display as he stopped in front of you, looking down at you on the couch.

“In your dreams.” You laughed, craning your neck to look up at him.

Instead of getting mad, he let out a low chuckle, leaning down with both arms on either side of the couch, caging you in.

“Every night, baby.” He whispered softly, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips before moving to your cheek, delivering another soft kiss. You sighed in contentment as his lips ghosted over your skin, the pet name making your head feel dizzy.

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before standing up straight again, looking down at you. Your eyelids felt heavy as you looked up at him through your lashes. He was already smiling, and you didn’t even need to ask “what?”—you already knew. Anyone in their right mind could tell how obsessed you were with him, and it was no surprise to him either.

As you both walked out of the bookstore, carrying a bag full of psychological and romance books (and, of course, the box of transparent sticky notes Jungkook got for you to annotate your books without writing on the actual pages), it was clear this was one of his favorite things to do. In his free time, when he wasn’t working or with you, he loved opening one of your books and reading your thoughts scribbled in the margins. Half of his camera roll was pictures of you, but the other half was just pictures of your annotations, scribbles, and drawings.

It was as if he was inside your mind, reading every thought, and he loved it.

He could still recall the first book he opened that sent his heart racing, like a teenage boy with a crush.

“I couldn’t see him, but his laugh was unmistakable. I could close my eyes and be in so many places with that laugh. That laugh was the cohesive thread, the little recurring melody that showed up in so many scenes of my life, like Mia and Sebastian’s theme in La La Land. Always there, playing in the background.”

Those words were highlighted in the prettiest shade of pink, with two small hearts drawn beside them. But it was your handwriting at the bottom that got him: “The feeling I’ve been trying to put into words about how I feel every time I look at him has just been done for me, oh my.” He remembered feeling his heart stop for a second. And when it started again, it was for you—his heart was for you and only you.

That wasn’t all. It had become one of your shared love languages. Jungkook started buying books he thought you’d like. He even asked your little sister what your favorite highlighters were so he could buy them for both of you.

Your heart did somersaults when you opened a book on his bedside table and saw a drawing—a pair of eyes in black ink, long lashes making them look bigger and more innocent. Your breath hitched as you noticed the small freckle just below the eyebrow, realizing it was you.

It didn’t help the overwhelming sensation of adoration when you saw his handwriting in the margins.

“You remembered?” she said softly.

“I remember every second of us.”

The text was underlined, and in small letters, he had written, “Gosh, she made me fall so hard that I’m reading sappy words and thinking ‘us’ out loud. #sendhelp,” with a frowning emoji next to the hashtag. Before you knew it, you were on page one, reading every single line and note he had left.

Also, the multiple drawings on the pages where there was extra space had your heart thumping hard in your chest. There were so many drawings— each one tied to you or him. It was impossible to describe every feeling surging through your chest, every emotion racing in your bloodstream, as your fingertips traced the drawing of you.

This time, it was an image of you on your back, lying on a bed. Only part of your side profile was visible, with your hair spilling across the bed, covering most of your back. At first, you didn't want to assume it was you he'd drawn-being self-centered wasn't your style. But it was impossible to deny it when he'd sketched every freckle, even the small half-moon tattoo on your shoulder blade, matching the real one inked on your skin.

You smiled at the memory but snapped back to the present as your boyfriend instinctively switched you to the other side of the sidewalk when you two turned toward Target. You held tight to his index finger as he squeezed between people, leading you behind him with a soft "excuse me" to anyone in the way.

Automatically, you found yourself smiling as you picked up your pace to match his longer strides. He pulled you in closer, his arm snaking around your waist, his hand resting over your belly—a little lower than usual, sending butterflies flitting wildly in your stomach. You suppressed a shiver as he gently guided you to the side, allowing an older couple to pass by.

"Us when we're eighty, baby," Jungkook leaned down and whispered into your ear, making you playfully roll your eyes at him. His smile only widened at your reaction.

"Won't be us if you keep watching Young Sheldon without me," you pouted, giving him a playful glare, which only made him smile more.

"Why are you smiling?" you asked, maybe even whining a little as you walked into the store and heard the employee greet you both.

"Because you're so beautiful, and my brain goes in circles when I stare at you," he shrugged casually, giving your waist a small squeeze before untangling his arm to grab a cart.

You tried so hard not to melt, holding onto his bicep as he leaned forward on the cart, making him closer to your height.

"Don't know it you're down, but l've been wanting to learn how to crochet," you said as you glanced around the aisles. Your boyfriend immediately started nodding excitedly.

"Baby, oh my god. I'm so down. We need to make those big-ass blankets," he rambled, looking at your face for a reaction, like a puppy with its ears perked up and tail wagging.

"I think that's knitting, baby," you corrected him, smiling as his eyebrows raised before he let out a small laugh.

"Wait, are those two not the same thing?" His dimple deepened as he bit his lower lip, stopping in front of the craft aisle.

"I actually have no clue," you admitted with a chuckle, raising an eyebrow. "But I know you can crochet a blanket because you once told me about those pattern blocks you saw on your explore page.”

Jungkook's gaze softened as he made eye contact with you, his pupils dilated with so much adoration that it made your heart swell.

"And I remember because I searched them on TikTok to see what you were talking about. I saw people connecting them into blankets. Also, I remember you pretending to sleep so you didn't have to scratch my back anymore-before my one minute was up. You swear you're slick, but I know when you're really asleep," he said with a grin, teasingly biting your cheek as you tried not to smile.

"How do you know I'm not sleeping?" you teased, and he chuckled, ghosting his lips over yours.

"Because every time you fall asleep, you make this little sound, and then slowly, you start snoring," he laughed, watching your cheeks turn a shade of red before burying his laughing face in the crook of your neck.

To be loved is to be seen.

That phrase had never felt more accurate. No one else had ever seen you the way Jungkook did. He knew you so well, down to the tiniest details that sometimes even surprised you.

Your eyes practically turned into hearts as Jungkook kissed your neck innocently before turning his attention to the yarns.

This was the kind of love you had always dreamed of

-better than the movies or books. Nothing could top the overwhelming feelings of gratitude, love, and appreciation that coursed through your body whenever you looked at him. Your brain practically played the instrumental of "Video Games" by Lana Del Rey whenever you spent time with him.

It was as if even a natural disaster couldn't faze you

-so long as you could experience it with him.

The connection between you two was beyond what you ever imagined existed in real life. It felt like something out of a fairy tale. From the moment you locked eyes with him across the room, you both knew there was no turning back.

After checking out and getting to Jungkook's car, he opened the door for you, reaching over to buckle your seatbelt before putting the bags in the back.

Once he climbed into the driver's seat, his hand instinctively found its place on your thigh after starting the car. His thumb rubbed your bare skin, sending sparks flying through your body. It was such a natural gesture for him, but the butterflies never ceased. You bit your lip, trying not to whine when his hand moved closer to your inner thigh.

As he softly sang along to "Creep" by Radiohead, it was just another thing you'd become morally obsessed with-his voice. You had always known he could sing, but everything changed the night you were first intimate.

It was as if your entire perspective on love and sex shifted. Simply calling it "sex" seemed absurd now, because it was so much more. Everything felt heightened, more intense, making your heart pound wildly in your chest.

"F-fuck, baby..." he whimpered into your ear, his hips moving slowly into yours, leaving your mouth hanging open.

His little groans and moans made you dizzy, like notes of a lullaby. The feeling of skin against skin was the most addicting sensation, made even more special by the way he always checked in on you.

"Shhh, I'm sorry. Am I being too rough, baby?" His voice was strained as his hips halted, his breath heavy as he moved your hair to kiss your neck.

He resumed slowly, making your legs shake and grip the sheets, and you couldn't help but moan, asking for more. His chuckle against your skin was the same one you’d hear when he rested his head on your stomach, expecting you to scratch his back or read to him.

"You're sweaty," you pouted at him, both of you basking in the afterglow.

"I know. Do you still want me?" He smiled, mimicking your expression before pulling the covers over both your naked bodies and pulling you in as close as possible.

"Yes, I'll forever want you," you replied, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, savoring the warmth he radiated.

As sleepiness began to overtake you, you felt his fingertips tracing letters and shapes on your hip.

Just before drifting off, he began singing again. It was like entering another universe where only you and he existed

"I want you to notice," he sang softly, "when I'm not around."

"So fucking special... I wish I was special." He pressed a kiss to your temple, the sound of his voice and your matching heartbeats lulling you both to sleep.

You snapped back to reality when the car stopped at a red light.

"Is it bad that I always hope to get red lights so I can kiss you?" he asked, flashing a grin that had you laughing.

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his as his eyes fluttered shut, his finger lifting your chin gently.

"Not bad, but a little weird. You want to spend so much time with me," you teased, pulling back to your seat. "Some might even think you're pretty obsessed."

"I'm past obsessed at this point. There's got to be another word that tops it," he admitted, stealing another kiss just before the light turned green.

As you gazed at him, you couldn't help but wish there was another word, stronger than "love," to describe how you felt about him.

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mickyschumacher · 2 months ago

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𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐎 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after a long awaited summer break, you were expecting to have a good sleep in with carlos, but his plans for you are slightly different. or in which you convince carlos' to turn his morning cardio into something a little more fun.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), unprotected sex (if you're gonna slip, slop, slap, you must wrap your willy!), few untranslated spanish words, p in v, teasing, oral sex, kinda fluffy, poor humour, breastplay, dryhumping (bc i am nothing without this), fingering, cumming inside, bit of overstimulation for the reader, i love you's.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!carlos sainz x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2k+

𝐀/𝐍: while this wasn't what i initially was working on, i've momentarily gotten some free time amongst the chaos, you deserve some work, and carlos has been looking pretty delectable 🤭 // poorly proof-read sorry ♡︎

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

You weren't a fan of working out. Never had been and was never going to be.

It wasn't that you didn't see the point of it. You were well versed in the science: it was good for you. It helped your body, soothed you mentally, and overall, kept you in a pretty good mood if you kept the right balance.

Your problem lied within the methods.

Take your dear boyfriend, for example.

Carlos loved working out. You weren't sure whether it was because he was an F1 driver or whether it was just Carlos himself. But he spent almost every living moment off the tracks with some form of physical activity.

You had memorised his routine quite well: a lengthy morning run, training with his personal trainer, his beloved choices of golf or paddle, followed by the occasional swimming or God forbid, another run.

Carlos tried to get you 'hooked' on to it all, claiming it's better to workout with someone as opposed being by yourself. But his efforts were to no avail.

You had important things to do... like catching up on your beauty sleep.

"Mi amor," The rasp of Carlos' voice lingered through the early morning air, cold hands trailing over your back. He pressed his lips at the silent response, watching you not a budge even a centimetre in your sleep.

A sigh escaped his mouth as he pressed his knees onto the edge of your bed, bending down to push your hair behind your ears. "Cariño," He called softly, making you hum in response.

"Carlos," you mumbled with sleep heavy in your voice. "You better not ask–"

"Come on a run with me," Carlos pleaded.

You forced an eye open, wincing at the immediate white light surrounding you. Blinking rapidly, you honed in on the Spaniard who was already dressed for his venture, batting his brown puppy eyes towards you.

"Handsome, you know I love you very much," you cooed, pressing your head further into the warmth of your pillow, "But I'd rather watch Lewis go to Ferrari."

An abrupt slice of cold air trickled past your bare skin and thin clothes. You yelped, covering your body, immediately missing the comforting heat of your duvet. "Carlos!" You scolded, much more awake now.

Carlos gave you a sickly sweet smile. "Say unwarranted things, get unwarranted things," He shrugged nonchalantly before grabbing your ankle to drag you off the mattress.

"No, no, no, no," you groaned, squirming in his grip. Pouting your lips, you quickly reached over to grab Carlos' hand. "Please," you whined.

"My sweet girl," Carlos started, "I just want you to join me. I promise you it'll be good. It's fun morning cardio!"

You grimaced at the chirpy tone he had taken on. 'Fun morning cardio'... how insufferable.

Feeling Carlos loosen his grip, you yanked your ankle back and got on your knees, sinking down on the soft mattress. "Carlos," You murmured, hands travelling up his arms as you leaned in.

Carlos narrowed his eyes, quickly knowing you were up to something with that sweet tone of yours.

"Baby, name the better cardio. A morning run or..." You trailed off, hand travelling down his arm and past his thigh, resting dangerously close to his crotch. "... morning fun?"

Carlos let out a dramatic sigh but he couldn't keep the quirk of his lips at bay. He stretched out his thick arm, grabbing you by the waist. His skin swarmed with heat as he felt your bare waist under your shirt as he fully pulled you over him. A quick nudge to your knees left you straddling him.

"More energy burnt," you murmured in the venture of a fake persuasion even though you already had the answer. Carlos' hand reached out to push your hair behind your ears before landing on the soft pillows of your lips. Nervously you inhaled, "And a whole lot more pleasure."

You stared at Carlos. Taking in those puppy brown eyes, the warmth of his skin, those God-made eyelashes, and each little freckle mixed with the burden of racing on his face. It was the first day of summer break and even though Carlos was pulling you out of bed to work out in the morning, you couldn't help but be a little thankful. You missed him. You had both been so busy lately and it felt like you hadn't seen each other in months.

"What's on your mind, cariño?" Carlos whispered, thumb still trailing the shape of your lips as those very same brown eyes searched yours.

"Nothing. I just missed you. And your stupid morning cardio," You rolled your eyes. "Is that a crime?"

"Then I'm guilty as charged," Carlos confessed, not missing the softening of your eyes as he held you tighter against him. "All I've been thinking about since the race at home is coming back to you."

Carlos' home race in Spain was the last time you had met before long-distance had embedded it's nasty claws into you once again

"Yeah?" You whispered, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek. "Anything in particular?"

Carlos took a deep breath in, your signature fragrance engulfing him. Goodness, were you intoxicating. "Well... there was picnics, breakfast, golf, and the beach on the agenda. And... morning fun."

A gasp left your mouth as Carlos fell back first onto the mattress, bringing his lips to yours.

This kiss was different from the others you had shared. Perhaps it was the atmosphere or context that accounted for that difference but the need, the love, the softness, and the brutal passion was suddenly pouring into every fibre of your being.

Your hands fell around his neck and hair, nose gliding near his as Carlos continued to ravage your mouth. He sucked on your lips with a small nibble here and there, relishing the muffled moans escaping your lips. His own hands continued to travel the path of your body he had committed to memory. He knew as he traversed your burning skin exactly where the small freckles and bumps he had come to love were.

Your soft moans became more audible and pleasing to Carlos' ears as he moved his lips to your neck, leaving the sloppily yet controlled kisses down base of your skin.

You gasped as you felt a sudden jerk underneath you, feeding into the pooling wetness between your thighs. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, your hips automatically responded by grinding down onto Carlos' bulge.

"Ah, mierda," Carlos cursed, feeling his cock throb in his shorts. His eyes fluttered shut, hands returning to your hips to continue the stimulating pleasure.

Both of your skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat as you felt Carlos' clothed cock rut into your poorly covered pussy. You rocked your hips harder into him, feeling a slight jolt against your clit. "Oh, fuck, Carlos," you moaned his name in his ear.

God, what were you two? Sex-crazed teenagers? Dry humping on each other like rabbits in heat.

"Hermosa," Carlos panted, eyebrows strained with the urge to cum yet give you all the pleasure he could. "I need... I need..." he breathed, "I need to be in you, fuck." His entire body shuddered with a sharp arousal while his cock could feeling your thin underwear becoming useless and drenched. It was as thin as his patience was wearing.

You made a poor attempt to nod, releasing a hand from his neck. You briefly lifted your hips, pushing your panties to the side. In doing so, your breath hitches as you feel your sensitive folds glide past your fingers.

"Oh, fuck," Carlos blubbered, losing himself in seeing your bare pussy and your reaction. "Fuck yourself on those pretty little fingers for me, baby. I need you ready for me," He encouraged breathlessly, attempting to shove off his shorts with one hand.

Carlos watched in torture as you pushed your fingers into your warm walls, body jerking forward at the sheer pleasure. "That's it, baby," he continued to praise you, "Doing so well for me, hmm?" He asked, moving one hand down your hips, skimming past your burning thigh before reaching the small bundle of nerves situated near your hand.

"A little faster, baby," Carlos said, "You're already so fucking wet. Pump those fingers... let me see how much you missed me."

You were already moaning in a haze at the praises leaving his lips, pushing your fingers in faster, unable to see how your engorged folds took them in as your eyes focused on the ceiling. But the moment you felt the pad of Carlos' thumb on your clit, you had given up every ounce of respect you had for yourself.

"Oh, shit, oh shit," you cursed, hips bucking up at his action. Your eyes shut tightly. The white light of ecstasy felt close. Your hand sped up faster, your hips went against your fingers and his thump with a more brutal force, feeling his aching cock bounce under you... Christ, you were going to cum. And hard.

The light... so close...

And just like that, it was gone.

You snapped your eyes open, falling to your pussy to see Carlos' hand retreating. "Mierda... no, baby, Carlos, " you cursed without looking at his face. But the moment you did, you understood him.

His hooded eyes told you everything. The throbbing his aching cock was bringing him, his slurred state of mind, and his firm desire to make you cum on his cock.

You kept your eyes on him, savouring the hiss falling from his lips as your took his cock out of his underwear. You gave a small smile, guiding his angry member to your puffy folds. You both released hitched moans when you rubbed your pussy against his cock.

You watched as Carlos purposely lifted his hips, pushing the tip of his cock against your clit, making your body convulse for a brief second. Fucking hell. That was enough for the both of you. Cumming just by rubbing yourselves on each other was equally as worse as cumming by dry humping each other.

You pressed your lips together, pushing his cock slowly into your pussy. Christ, he was always so big. Thick and pulsing in your hands, stretching your pussy out no matter how many times you made love as if it were the first time.

Carlos groaned, both hands firmly placed on your hips, head falling back onto the bed headboard. God, it had been so long. He missed your touch everyday. But the feeling of his cock in your pussy... he thought about it every second of every day.

You pushed your hips down flat, ensuring Carlos bottomed out. You groaned at the full feeling of his cock in you, eyeing the small bulge in your stomach. "Fuck, you fill me up so well, baby," you praised.

Carlos moaned in response. "Ride me baby. You know I like when you ride me."

You managed a smile, taking off the singlet you had slept in. The self control Carlos had for your breasts was little. Especially, when they bounced in front of him like they were right now. His hands almost immediately shot out, groping the soft mounds with all his might.

Immersed in your tits, his body trembled when you rose your hips and slammed down on his cock, repeating the movement again. "Ah, shit," Carlos cussed, drunk on your pussy.

You ground your hips forward as you rode his cock, stimulating the pure pleasure of grinding on one another. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see Carlos' hand reach towards your clit. Your eyes shut, bracing yourself for what's about to come.

Carlos intently watched you, rubbing your clit in soft circles. He could see you slowly fall apart, the fast rhythm of your hips slowing down and becoming sporadic. Your body was shaking with pleasure, your hands reaching towards his thick biceps.

He continued your work for you, lifting your hips with his one hand on your waist. He grunted, feeling you clench around his cock. "Cum... cum for me," he beckoned, increasing the speed of his cock and the pressure of his thumb on your clit.

He smiled at the complete lost look that had fallen on your face. Your body jerked and convulsed over him, your brain unable to control it any longer. Your climax hit you hard as he denied your previous one not too long ago. Your whine was high pitched and dazed. You were completely lost in pleasure.

Your pleasure only fuelled his own. Your walls were holding his cock like a vice, clamping down on him. You could feel his throbbing cock overstimulating your sensitive pussy.

Carlos groaned at the feel of his twitching cock in your walls. He panted, hips racing to chase the urge to cum. "Yes, yes, yes," he mumbled, falling victim to your praises falling from your soft lips and the clench of your pussy.

You both groaned when you felt the hot ropes of his cum spill into your walls. HIs hips stuttered, faltering against yours as you took every last drop from his cock.

Carlos buried his chin into your neck, riding out his last few moments of his climax. "Fuck," he mumbled, letting out a small exhale as he moved his head back and looked at you. He laughed softly at your tired look. He placed a few lingering kisses across your neck, coming to your lips last. "I love you," he murmured against them.

You smiled gently. "Forever?" you asked.

"Forever," Carlos confirmed, placing a kiss on your forehead. Slowly, he removed his softening cock from your pussy. You both watched his cum mixed with your spill out of you.

You looked up at Carlos, eyeing the dark look on his face. You sighed. "Morning fun or not, give me at least ten minutes. If not thirty!"

Carlos chuckled, moving out from under you and standing in front of you in an unbecoming state that would make his closest friends laugh at him. He swooped you into his arms making you yelp. "Let's take a shower. I'll clean you."

You raised a brow, hands hung around his neck. "Just cleaning? That doesn't sound like you," you retorted.

Carlos smirked, walking you to the bathroom. "You're right. I'll clean you, fuck you, and clean you again."

Oh…

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 smut #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz

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pepperyduck · 26 days ago

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“roomates” with satoru gojo

this is part five of my kinktober event!

word count: 2.3k

warnings: nsfw, roomate au, fingering, gojo has a nasty mouth, pwp!, virgin reader, overstim. (18+ mdni!)

notes: i love the idea of actor and roomate gojo so much,,, may talk about it later. uploading early again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

kinktober masterlist | masterlist

having the satoru gojo as your roommate is quite the experience.

it was odd—

you had known satoru in college, always somehow getting stuck in the same overflow housing on campus. you had gotten to know each other well, being forced to live with the other off and on. after he had gotten his degree in drama—and you got your degree in a successful STEM major—he proposed moving in together. you needed a place off campus, and he needed someone to room with, because rent was too high for him to afford on his own as a budding actor.

things were fine for a while, daily routines consisted of seeing one another regularly. but then satoru had his first big gig. he disappeared for months, needed for a last minute replacement. he told you about the role; a younger version of a strong—no, the strongest—sorcerer. apparently, he got to play his part in a dramatic friendship breakup, which you figured perfectly suited the way satoru acted normally.

his fame quickly rose, with the series being released only a few months later. after that, satoru never really came around all that often; you saw him maybe twice a month, if you got lucky. but even after that, satoru stayed in the apartment. you didn’t mind, honestly, he kept up with his side of the rent plus some.

but the really odd part?

your social media feed.

every social wouldn’t shut up about him—“upcoming star, satoru gojo makes an impact in new tv series,” “he’s so hot, i’d let him do whatever he wanted,” “I NEED HIM,”

and yeah, maybe curiosity got the best of you when you searched up the fanfiction—but hey, people seemed like they would kill to be in your position. the creative minds of those online made you see your goofy, struggling artist of a roommate in a different light. the way they wrote about his chest, and how smooth and toned it is, or his sparkly blue eyes and how they could make clothes fall of with just a look. recently, satoru had shared in an interview his fingers are 6 inches, and boy did people go feral over that.

they focused on every part. his soft fingertips, and how lengthy his fingers actually are the more you look at them. the subtle veins that ran over the back of his hand and up his arm. his middle and ring finger, how nicely they slide in and out, hitting that spot, coaxing you toward—

“whatcha readin’?”

the abrupt question shocks you out of your trance, making you yelp and practically throw your phone across the room. it lands face down beside your vanity, earning a loud thud when it hits the floor. your heart speeds up as you turn to face your roommate, internal temperature rapidly rising.

“jesus, satoru! what are you doing home?” you ask, praying that he wouldn’t take it upon himself to grab your phone for you.

“it’s my apartment, too, y’know,” he retorts, throwing his hands on his hips dramatically. “i’m gonna be here for a few days, if you don’t mind.” every word off his tongue is laced in sarcasm. it’s annoying.

and just as you try to reply, gojo swoops to the other side of the room to grab your phone, intently staring at the screen before you can even say, “stop!” you want to run away because you just know he’s reading pure filth about himself that you looked up. but you find yourself unable to move whatsoever, only able to watch in horror as your roommate reads fanfiction about himself. immediately, a sly grin overcomes satoru’s expression, and his eyes flicker from the phone to you over his sunglasses.

“this is pretty detailed stuff,” satoru teases. you’re able to tell he is in fact reading whatever you had pulled up on your phone, because he’s taking his sweet time scrolling and reading through all the divine things said about his hands.

“stop, satoru,” you whine, pathetically reaching for your phone. gojo holds it out of your reach, of course, and even though you almost came to grab your phone that was almost touching the ceiling, you can’t quite reach it. “please just go away,” you sigh, giving up and flopping back down on your mattress. you can only look on, still mortified, as satoru continues scrolling.

after a few heavy minutes and some more comments on your choice of fiction to read, he throws your phone back on the bed next to you, placing his hands on his hips once more.

“how long were you gonna keep that from me?”

“never really planned on telling you, satoru. leave me alone.” you reply, grabbing your phone so it’s out of gojo’s reach.

“you could’ve just asked—,”

“go away—huh?” you furrow your brows and look at the taller man, who’s sassily posed next to your bed, “don’t fuck with me like that.”

“i’m not.” he assures you.

satoru wasn’t joking. in fact, he had never been more serious in his life. he’d always thought you were pretty – more like drop dead, breathtakingly beautiful – but never mustered up the courage to talk to you about it. you were his friend, his roommate. he didn’t want to scare you off. but all chances of him not scaring you off were thrown out the window because he knew you wanted him now.

so, yes, he did what he did with every other girl—encouraging a hot make-out session after you got over the embarrassment of what was on your phone. you hadn’t had a chance to think about all those stories you read online, because it was all happening to you in real time.

with your lips in a permanent lock, satoru takes his time rubbing his hands all over your body, grabbing your waist, flipping up the skirt you had worn in the previous hours to run errands—

“wait,” you labored out, breathing heavy as you pushed your roommate’s shoulders away from you, “i’ve never—i haven’t…” your words are tripping over themselves into silence as you try to explain to your – gorgeous, famous, actor – roommate that you’re a virgin.

queue satoru’s head almost exploding. he swears then and there that his nose should’ve started to bleed, and his face turned an awful shade of red at the news. it was unfathomable in his mind that you, his smoking-hot roommate, was a virgin. he swore he saw you come home with your ex-boyfriend plenty of times…but maybe you were saving yourself, or something.

“stop looking at me like that. you were a virgin too.” you scoff at his ogling, crossing your arms over your chest. you’re still trapped against your headboard, the sheer size of satoru making you stay in one place. your legs are draped over his thighs, not quite straddling but close enough for him to feel the heat radiating off of your clothed pussy.

“do you want me to finger you?”

the crude question rolls off his tongue with ease, and you smack his shoulder with the palm of your hand in return. but again, he’s being serious. it takes you a few seconds to realize he’s being serious, he wants to finger you and it’s written all over his face.

after a few moments and shocked blinks, you nod your head.

satoru’s nosebleed actually happens whenever he gets you in position; you’re laid back with your legs on top of his, knees pressing into his waist. he just stares in utter disbelief at how cute and sexy you look, flustered all because of him. he runs the pad of his thumb over the mound in your panties, relishing in how soft, warm and damp you are. he can’t take his eyes away from how his thumb presses into the flesh, pushing down just to watch how his thumb gets swallowed by it.

“satoru—your nose is bleeding,” you gruffly state, snapping the white-haired man back to reality. one hand stays pressed to you while he lifts the other one to wipe under his nose with the back of his wrist.

low and behold, a few droplets of blood smear on the back of his wrist—but he’s too entranced by you to care. he looks back in your eyes, wiping his face with his shirt grossly.

“i’m okay—can i take them off?” satoru asks, almost politely if he wasn’t bleeding from the nose at how horny he is. his fingers hook into the waistband, eagerly awaiting your nervous little nod that you give him. he rips the thin fabric off your legs, taking it upon himself to lift you up and move your legs so he can toss your panties to the side of the room.

your immediate response is to snap your thighs together, but satoru quickly stops you and holds your legs open, forcing you to show your most intimate area to him. he drools over how pretty it looks, folds spread open and glistening, a perfect display of anatomy. he’s in love with the view alone. a prominent tent pokes in his sweatpants, but he ignores the feeling to focus on the task at hand.

“stop staring,” you meekly speak up, eyes looking anywhere else but at your celebrity roommate.

satoru’s bright irises look up at you before asking, “can i?” with the looks of a child begging for a piece of candy. after another quick, nervous nod, satoru swipes his thumb over your hole, then all the way up to over your clit. the sensation makes you wriggle and gasp, it’s odd being touched by someone else—but it feels good, even better than alone. natural lubrication practically drips off your pussy, so prettily, and satoru continues dragging his thumb up and down, paying close attention to how you whimper or move around when he gets to the bundle of nerves poking out.

you feel particularly needy at his ministrations, they’re so slow and it leaves you aching for more when he moves to less sensitive parts of your cunt. every time your eyes flash to gojo, he’s completely locked on what’s between your plush thighs, making you all the more embarrassed. embarrassment is thrown away, though, when his middle and ring fingers close together and creep up to slowly rub your clit.

your body jolts and satoru silently giggles, god, you’re so sensitive for him, he might go insane. he finds it simply endearing how well you react to him. each small circle he draws over your bud makes your thighs twitch and hole clench, and from his view, he can see it all perfectly. satoru’s eyes look up at you for once, just to see your head thrown back on the pillow and your bottom lip tucked between your teeth to silence yourself.

“don’t be quiet, babe,” he says, and your eyes snap open to be brought back to reality.

“wh—uuht?” you drawl, mind hazy and foggy from just the little bit of pleasure he was providing. but as your mouth is open, he speeds his fingers up, forcing you to practically yell out, “satoru—wait!”

“i wanna hear you,” gojo taunts, his voice light and happy, not at all giving the impression he was playing with your cunt.

he does not wait, or slow down, he only continues to quicken the pace of which his fingers circle your clit. he feels accomplished when you finally begin to let out little moans and suck in air through your teeth, knowing the feeling of his finger pads was becoming all too much. this was the type of thing he lived for—making cute, inexperienced girls (you) lose their mind from pleasure.

it’s the type of pleasure that you weren’t able to achieve yourself; it made the bottoms of your feet tingle, and your legs move on their own—and the familiar feeling of an orgasm was quickly building up. the knot in your lower abdomen grows tighter and more intense, making you whine and thrash below your roommate.

satoru’s other hand comes down to prod his index finger at your tight hole, an unfamiliar feeling to you—especially as it’s being done by someone else. he pushes his finger in, causing another yelp to come from the back of your throat—but it doesn’t hurt. gently fucking you with just the tip of his finger, satoru’s hand focused on your clit speeds up more.

“mm—satoru, think i’m close,” your words are rushed as you warn him, but his movements don’t falter in the slightest.

“yeah? gonna cum on my fingers?” he teases, “gonna cream all my hand?”—and if you weren’t already so close, you would’ve kicked him out at the taunting. instead, you throw your arms over your face and try your best to hold back the feeling—wanting it to last as long as possible. he slowly pushes his finger in more and more, gradually coming to fuck you with one thin, long finger. the first bit he’s fully inside, it’s uncomfortable, but the pressure fades the more he plays with you. the bubble of your orgasm grows and grows until you’re about to topple over the edge.

“i’m gonna cum,” the words come out your mouth in a long, sultry string— satoru’s never heard anyone sound so good while telling him that.

“yeah, that’s it—come on, baby,” satoru encourages you, his voice having dropped multiple octaves to sound a million times more sexy — far from the satoru you’d come to know. his words force the orgasm to crash over you, your body continually jolting and stuttering—beginning to fight satoru because he doesn’t stop.

“i—i finished—stop, satoru—ohmygod—,” you stutter out, and satoru presses his elbows against your thigh, rendering you immobile.

“you’re so sensitive, princess,” satoru teases again, and you catch his eyes in a downright primal stare,

“gonna make you cum on my fingers again, baby.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #kinktober #pepperyduck's kinktober 2024

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irndad · 8 months ago

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won't you be my sunshine-a.h.

a/n: runner!hotch x sunshine!reader !! sooooo fluffy, first hotch fic of mine so be gentle with me! lots of pining and happy end <3 happy to continue with these two in an au!

Aaron Hotchner is not a particularly emotive man.

This is a skill he has honed, a cherished quality that was not born of luck or of natural ability, but a skill that he has honed down to a fine tip point. He needs to be, in this job. It’s cost him things, of course, but for the most part, Aaron is happy with his choices. He takes a firm line with people he works with, and does not always let up in his personal life.

The only time this sometimes causes a hitch, is in his romantic life.

Which isn’t to say that he has one.

There is a woman who reads in the park every morning. Aaron affectionately thinks of this bench as her bench, as it is marked by wisterias and hyacinths on either end of it. It’s something of a ritual, after his runs, that they talk.

It’s fun. He doesn’t have a lot of space for fun. He’d collapsed on the bench one day after siphoning his anger at a particular case into a difficult run. He’d crashed onto the bench, sweaty and exhausted and hadn’t even seen her there. Which is a bit impressive, as she’s hard to miss the sight of. It is also in equal measure embarrassing. It’s not every day you collapse in front of a gorgeous woman, disturbing her from what is likely a lovely afternoon in the park.

That’s how it started, anyway. She doesn’t run, so each break is punctuated by her company. He’s actually not sure if they’re flirting. He’s not very good at that- the last time he has to he was 17 and so full of unearned confidence, he lucked into a partnership.

Now, he’s a bit older and a lot more scarred. She’s younger than him, not by much. She laughs with her whole chest at his dry, glib humor- and this is something Aaron had forgotten. The joy of a beautiful, wonderful woman’s company beside you.

He feels a little out of place next to her. Romance is not something he does. Ever thought he’d do again, really. That’s not to say that this is romance. Their romance is almost entirely hypothetical. He thinks of her at work, which is a monumental development in and of itself.

“So, how was the paperwork? I know you’ve been taking a little more on since your colleague had a baby. It’s so kind of you to do it.” She asks him on a beautiful August morning.

He fights off a blush that she remembers what he’s done for JJ. He’s not big on mentioning his own good deeds. Aaron believes that this would cancel it out. Still, her praise is a warm balm to the exhaustion that plagues him. It’s hedonistic, the way he wants her to say more about him. He wonders absentmindedly if she knew everything about him that’s hard to love, she’d still paint him with such a light and warm glance. She’s bright enough, he’s tempted to tell her everything about him just because she asks.

“It was…alright. My team is excellent. I’m lucky to work with people like them, it makes the process better. I couldn’t ask for more.”

She giggles a little at this, and there’s that roar of affection.

He feels a sense of ease around her, one that is suspicious for him. He tries not to romanticize, but this connection is hard not to. She’s beautiful- this is obvious to anyone who meets her, a simple truth of her. But Aaron is trained to notice things little factors that show the truth of someone.

He likes to watch her- it’s a pleasant thing, getting to be in her presence. It’s a little addicting, the way she looks at him. It makes him feel like all of the things he knows to be true of himself- his relative failures, the closed-off nature of his demeanor- are things that not only can be overlooked, but don’t seem to be in her line of sight at all. It’s an honor, to have her doe eyes rake over the sight of him, to meet him with gentle conversation.

He tries not to notice that she is gorgeous. Aaron has been around beautiful women, of course- this is not something that should surprise him. But there’s something effervescent about her, something that his him wondering if it’s possible that she might feel the same way about him. He knows that he used to be a more attractive man, but now. Well, he’s a bit bruised, both metaphorically and physically.

It feels odd to even think of this happening. She’s just got a warm, sweet tone and he replays what it’s like when she greets him. She smiles her brilliant grin and sometimes hugs him. It’s embarrassing how much he likes the feeling of it- soft curves against hard muscle and scarred skin. She always smells wonderful, and he wonders how nice it would be to have more of this.

“I like your new shirt, by the way.” She smiles at him, and his heart jumps. It feels juvenile, but- she’s wearing a new lipstick, it seems. Her beautiful pout looks awfully tempting.

“I like the lip color,” he tries to compliment back amenably, but that doesn’t stick. Instead, it comes out too earnest. He’s hyper aware of the fact that she’s right by him. She flushes, and Aaron feels a surge of pride.

“Thank you,” she says, voice softer and flattered, and isn’t that a pretty sound? He’d love to do that for her, make her feel seen, make her feel like she’s as beautiful as she is, “I thought you might like it.”

It’s her directiveness that breaks the seal, he supposes looking back. Because she wore the lipstick for him. That’s just about the only thing it can mean, and he is struck with a particularly sensory fantasy of what it would be like to slot his mouth against hers- he gets the feeling it might be worth it even if he gets the color on his mouth.

He’s a gentleman, though, he decides after a decidedly ungentlemanly amount of time spend staring at the gorgeous curve of her lips.

“Would you want to get dinner with me?” He hears himself say it before he’s processed it, and then it’s out into the world. His heart is hammering and he’s blaming on the run, when god, it’s absolutely about how breathtaking she looks, the sunlight reflecting off her hair like a halo. When she beams back at him, she looks particularly angelic.

It’s then, she leans over and kisses him on the cheek.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

(Months later, when she is sitting on his kitchen counter and he is standing between her legs, gazing down at her with unabated fondness because he is entitled to that, he reflects on this moment and thinks god, how lucky am I, that I ran past that bench?)

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