#every time i watch it. it’s just… hm.

[nerdlvr]

✩ camgirl

(MDNI)

smut , bff!haechan x camgirl!reader , fingering , supa wet pussy , slight grinding , female masturbation , i love hyuck's hands , honorable mention to his rings , reader and hyuck don't reveal their identities , features a bunch of horny nct members , lmk if i missed anything! , requested here !

"they're gonna love it hyuck- don't be nervous."

he shivered at your touch, watching as you crawled in between his legs, seating yourself in his lap.

"look- this is what they can see." his eyes focused on the screen in front of him.

you were seated in his lap, legs spread slightly to reveal your lacy panties, a wet patch already forming on the fabric. he felt his mouth water.

"you sure this is okay?"

you giggled, back shaking against his chest, "yeah hyuck- i trust you. just focus on me- you'll know what to do."

maybe he should've considered how hard this was actually going to be for him. helping your best friend record for her porn stream was definitely not best friend behavior.

.

the moment you had clicked record hyuck's length was already stiff against your back, eyes trained on the way the camera focused on your pussy.

"hi everyone! yes- yes- i guess you guys already noticed- i have a special guest today- give us a wave please teddy-chan."

he raised his hand awkwardly, waving at the computer camera.

you turned to look at him, a sweet smile on your lips, "he's a little shy so lets be nice- it's his first time on stream."

you leaned forward slightly to get a closer look at the comments, your ass pressing against his bulge. he groaned softly to himself bringing his hand up to cover his mouth.

"oooou, teddy they said they like your hands, show them off a little hm?" you gave him a reassuring nod, holding your hands out for him to grab.

you held onto his hands, pulling them forward for the audience to see, "nice rings right? look-" you held your hand up next to his, "they're matching!"

he blushed lightly as he looked through the comments, countless fanboys asking if he was your boyfriend.

"comments, comments, they're going so fast! how about we get a donation so we can start- look i'm already so wet just thinking about teddy-chan's hands."

you spread your legs, fingers softly rubbing against the wet patch on your panties.

hyuck felt awkward, hands coming up to pull you closer to his chest, hands accidentally rubbing against your breast.

you let out a soft sigh, leaning your head against his cheek, your bodies getting hotter by the second.

and that's when it pinged!

hit.thejae.spot donated $100 : take the panties off baby!!!

you giggled, fingers quick to tug at the waistband of your underwear, lifting your ass slightly to pull them off, "i thought you guys liked the panties! now you want them off?"

you could feel hyuck's breath against your shoulder, hands hot against your tummy. you turned to whisper in his ear, your voice quiet and soft, " you can hold my legs apart so they can see me, we don't have to go too quick if you don't want to."

he nodded, hands leaving your waist to run along your legs, fingers tight on your skin as he gripped your thighs, spreading you for the camera.

hyuck felt like he couldn't breathe as he looked into the computer. your core was on full display, glistening against the dim lighting coming from the screen.

"look at how wet i am guys- what should i do hm? wanna- i wanna touch myself."

he could hear the fake pout in your voice, your words coming out high pitched and whiny. your fans ate every bit of it up, your sweet act only making them hornier- making hyuck hornier.

ping! sungis.hung donated $250 : let him touch you.

hyuck gulped as he read the donation, heart beating faster against his chest.

"let him touch me? hm what do you think teddy?"

he placed his face against your neck, nodding slowly. you placed a kiss against his cheek, whispering into his ear, "everything at your pace hyuck- i'm right here- you're okay."

one of his hands let go of your thigh, moving it up towards your core. he was hesitant, fingers just barely hovering against your heat when-

ping! poisonme.lee donated $275 : teddy dude rub on her clit

ping! doiebunny donated $300 : teddy-chan make her moan for me

now the comments were directed at him, his eyes scanning through the countless donations, "looks like you guys like teddy-chan more than me huh? guyss don't make me cry- oh!"

hyuck ran his finger along your slit, collecting your juices, before popping the wet finger into his mouth for a taste. you turned your head to watch him, eyes wide.

ping! xiao.getsdown commented : no way he just tasted her, shy my ass!

ping! sho.her.mytaro commented : jealoussss!!!

his fingers were wet with spit as he pulled them out of his mouth, immediately moving them to run along your core again, collecting your juices as he moved them towards your clit.

you gripped onto his thighs as he began to rub against your sensitive bud, a moan slipping from your lips as you threw your head back on his shoulder.

"doing so good teddy- look at you."

he looked towards the bright screen in front of you, angled perfectly at your wet cunt, his fingers slowly rubbing against your swollen clit.

"fuck hyuck, feels so- fuck."

your whispers were hot against his cheek, your moans filling the space between you two.

"am- am i doing good?"

his free hand gripped your thighs harder, pulling your legs further apart.

"so good baby- so good."

ping! sheepyyang donated $500 : that pussy's begging to be fucked teddy-chan! give her some love!

he chuckled against your neck, fingers running past your folds and towards your leaking hole, pressing slowly.

the mewl you let out as he sunk his fingers into your cunt was like music to his ears, cock painfully straining against his pants as you pressed your body against his.

"stay still tiny, you're gonna hurt yourself."

his dull nails scrapped against your walls, the slight stretch burning your core. "teddy- please, want more."

ping! jen.gobark donated $550 : you heard her teddy, fuck her with your fingers man.

you moved your arm behind you, hand reaching for hyuck's hard length, squeezing the tense muscle, "need you hyuck- fuck me."

your wish was his command, fingers sliding in and out of you, your juices squelching against his hand.

you squeezed your eyes shut as you focused on his movements, long fingers running along your pulsing walls. your body tensed as he reached his knuckles, cold rings pressing against your hot cunt.

"teddy- oh my, teddy please."

he smirked into your skin, lips planting soft kisses along your neck as his fingers picked up speed.

ping! ping! ping! ping!

any donations and comments were drowned out by the sound of your growing moans, pussy gushing around his fingers.

"you like that angel? just a little bit more okay? i can feel you squeezing my fingers baby- i know you're close."

your only response was a half nod, head reeling at the pressure building in your stomach. his free hand let go of your thigh, leg weak and bruised by now, and placed it on your sensitive clit, rubbing harshly.

"hy-teddy, oh- oh- oh!"

he chuckled at your slip up, fingers only moving quicker against your core, shutting you up.

your hands moved forward to grip his wrists, trying to stop his movements as your stomach clenched, pussy releasing your sweet juices against his harsh fingers.

"too- too much, teddy ow- ow."

you tried to push him off of you, body twitching as he removed his fingers, his other hand still languidly rubbing against your clit.

"i got you- i got you."

he rubbed your belly, fingers letting go of your abused clit, his soft lips planting a kiss on your cheek.

ping! bananajohn donated $2000 : please let him become a regular.

[celuere]

kiss it, bite it, can i fit it?

pairing: arlecchino x fem!reader

context: your first time getting dragged into a lesbian bar after you came to therealization that men are simply just not for you. little did you know, your friends already had someone set up for you…

cw: modern au, dilf arle, implied age gap, shameless flirting, reader is lowkey inexperienced, strap-on, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, arle introduces you into the world of awesome sesbian lex, body worship, modern arle has her whole arms tattooed and you cannot convince me otherwise, no shade thrown on my bisexual icons, i am one myself pookies

word count: 2.9k

i‘m watching snapcubes sonic fandub while writing so i‘m sorry for any lack of braincells in this one

 „furina i… i really don‘t know if this was a good idea…“

it was currently 8:47pm on a saturday night and you were stuck in a lesbian bar  to which your friends furina and navia dragged you to, insisting it‘s a… great way to get you started!

one hour later navia sneaked off to talk to the purple-haired bartender and furina just nervously checked her phone every few minutes while she seems to be friends with quite a lot of todays visitors.

and you? you just stared holes into your cocktail you didn‘t touch for a single time. debating wether or not you should excuse yourself and drive home. you felt a little out of place here in this small community.

finally, furina‘s phone blinked up and her eyes widened before they found yours, a mischievous grin slowly spreading over her face.

she planned something. no wonder she kept checking her phone every few minutes.

„oh, this was a fantastic idea… you really thought i‘d just drag you here for fun…? i actually got the perfect match for you.“, patting herself on the shoulder for how good her plan seems to go so far, you wanted to choke her.

„that is not what we talked about-!“

„oh, this is exactly what we talked about! i pinky promise you will like her! she is an entomologist at the nearby institute, can name every insect and spider by a simple look and-“

„o-okay, okay, I get it-! still, i would have liked a little warning!“, you bent over the table to pinch her into the cheek.

„ow-ow-ow!! i-i knew you‘d have dipped if i told you about it-! now let got o-of me-!“, you sighed as you freed furina‘s cheek from your deathgrip and looked back down into the distorted reflection of your face in your drink.

„i‘m still new to all this so-“, you halted mid sentence when you noticed that the seat in front of you was suddenly empty, even her drink was gone.

oh this little-

„furina wasn‘t exaggerating when she told me about you being good on the eyes…“, a rather deep female voice spoke up behind you over the music before she came into view.

and all you wanted to do is get on your knees and thank furina over a million times for forcing you out of your apartment today.

because it was so worth it for the woman currently standing before you.

with her white-black hair being put up into a rather not so tidy bun, down to the fancy silken shirt being half unbuttoned… and the tattoos running both of her hands up to her forearms before disappearing underneath the fabric.

what in the world.

„i…“, you were forced to clear your throat before answering her, „y-yes… i think that would happen to be me…“, you looked her down once again. twice again. thrice again.

„sweetheart, if you‘re done undressing me with your eyes, i would love to get us both out of here. i‘m not exactly a fan of bars and clubs…“, flashing you a short smile, she put both her hands into the pockets of her pants.

„i- o-oh, goodness i-i‘m so sorry-! let me just-“, quickly gathering your stuff, you threw your jacket over your shoulder and got up from your seat, „good to go now-!“.

„and i haven‘t even properly introduced myself to you… a little excited, hm?“, she chuckled lowly before holding our her hand to you, „peruere. and your name is…?“, she couldn‘t help but let a chuckle slip past her lips at your almost humiliated expression.

that smile was driving you fucking insane.

 „my uh name is [name]! it is nice meeting you, peruere-!“, taking her extraordinarily warm hand into yours and giving it a light squeeze, suddenly leaving your apartment for tonight sounded like the best idea ever.

„the pleasure is all mine. now shall we get going…? it is a little too crowded in here for my taste…“.

peruere turned out to be a pleasant conversation partner. whatever topic you choose, she had a vast knowledge on almost everything and a charismatic touch to it too. it also came to your attention that she has three adopted children, a son aged 13 and a set of 16 year old twins.

„may i ask how you realized that just… men were not for you? that is a huge realization after all, not everyone can so easily come to term with.“, taking a turn with you to the left leading slowly to the exit of the park you were currently strolling around.

„it was… a little scary to be fair… but after countless failed relationships and dates, i slowly started to maybe consider that i‘m just not really interested in men. and after i went on yet another date i realized mid conversation that this is just… not for me? if that makes any sense… furina and my other friends certainly didn‘t seem surprised at all on the other hand, which was… a little embarrassing if i am being honest.“, you scratched the back of your head as you nervously laughed your own words off.

but peruere just looked straight down at you, not a hint of amusement in sight at your story, „it‘s not embarrassing at all. sometimes you have to try things out and make a few wrong choices before coming to the conclusion that you maybe have to handle things differently. you are not weird for discovering yourself fully in your mid twenties. look, my youngest son ist 13 years old and just now realized that he in fact does not like his astrology themed bedroom… after we had it completely decorated from ceiling to floor. guess we have to go for the undersea theme he has been wanting so dearly now. that is just part of growing up.“, she couldn‘t help but shove a few strands of your hair behind you ear.

„just like i am now realizing how beautiful you actually look in this particular light…“.

your body felt suddenly too hot for the clothes you were wearing, you weren‘t used to such… personal compliments from an almost stranger. even tho you never had as much chemistry with your previous dates as you did with her…

„y-you really are too sweet…w-we barely know each other, yet you speak to me as if it were ages…“

„i‘m not a fan of idle chitchat were i‘m simply listing up my favorite colors and how many steps it takes me from my bedroom into the bath.“, she is crossing her arms now and blowing a bit of her own hair out of her face.

„well… i would still like the answer to both of these things…“

something flashed up in the much taller woman‘s eyes.

„red and 14.“

you didn‘t know how the both of you made it to your apartment complex without clawing your clothes off. as soon as the elevator was closed, she was all over you. hands grabbing onto whatever curve they could as her lips moved against yours in an almost sexual manner. sucking on your tongue before pushing her own inside your mouth, teeth clashing together as if she wanted to eat you right up. your mixed saliva was running down the corner of your mouth when the elevator reached its destination.

„forgive me my… urgent behavior… it has been a while since i left the house for something like… a date…“, she stepped away from you, but not before wiping your chin clean of any spit with her thumb and stepping aside, „be so kind and lead the way, dear.“.

you just laughed her off as you walked into the hallway to your door, already fishing out the keys, „really this long…? i guess coming around is a little difficult with three kids to take care of and a career.“, sticking the key now into the hole and twisting it.

„it‘s not exactly something i mind. i choose to adopt them willingly. sure, a little more time to myself would be nice from time to time… but being a father has been nothing but fulfilling to me. i just wish lyney would stop setting things on fire for his magical tricks…“, she followed you inside your lofty abode, immediately taking her shoes off.

„that sounds… not really fun to worry about…“, you barely hung up your jacket when peruere‘s hand wrapped around your waist, tugging you back against her. hot breath hitting your ear as she leaned down to your height.

 „i have something much better on my mind right now anyways.“, pressing a gentle kiss to your ear that sent shivers down your spine, „which way is your bedroom, lovely…?“

„it‘s right at the end of the hallway… i just…“, you looked completely embarrassed away as you turned around, a light blush adorning your cheeks as you avoided eye contact.

„since i uh… did not expect this evening to take such a… turn… i did not take any appropriate measures beforehand…“

that woman looked never more puzzled in her life.

„as in…?“

„i did not shave…“, it was barely an inaudible mumble.

„excuse me, i did not quite catch that… try speaking up a little.“, she almost looked a little amused.

repeating yourself never felt more embarrassing, „i… did not shave… i‘m sorry…“

silence.

 „get your ass into that bed.“

she might as well just slapped you across the face.

„i- how?? isn‘t that the standard?“, you were literally getting shoved into the direction of your bedroom.

„if you think a bit of body hair is scaring me off, then i must disappoint you.“

as soon as you reached your bedroom, she was already fumbling with the buttons of your shirt.

„i-it‘s just that my previous dates were usually never fond of it-!“, a moan slipped out your mouth as she suddenly found her lips plastered on your neck, licking and sucking and search of your most sensitive spot.

her next words came out slightly muffled against your skin.

„they must have been cowards.“

the next moments were a mess of clothes just getting ripped off of you and herself unti you were left in nothin but half opened bra as peruere left a trail of hot and greedy kisses down your stomach. 

„relax and lay back for me. mhm… just like that…“, watching you as you laid back on your mattress only to feel her parting your legs and throwing them over her shoulders, you soon felt her lips caressing the soft flesh of your inner thighs.

„so beautiful… all ready for me… don‘t mind if i do…“, she didn‘t give you the chance to reply before she buried her head between your legs, tongue lapping up and down your folds and making sure to savor every drop of your arousal, prying your lips apart with her two fingers as she plunged her tongue finally into your aching pussy. she had you gripping the sheets with one hand her hair with the other in a matter of seconds. one moan after the other stumbling out of your mouth as quite literally fucked you with her bare tongue, her own groans of pleasure being drowned out by your cunt. she was treating you like a gourmet dinner, and holy mother on earth- you never experienced anything like this. she had technique, rhythm, everything. when she slipped the two fingers that were spreading you apart for her tongue, inside of you, it was as good as over of you. 

it took her merely a few experimental thrusts and curls of her hands before she found an enjoyable rhythm for you, and your g-spot along with it. with her mouth now wrapping around your already sensitive clit, you were hanging by a thread. her name was everything occupying your mind while you were swiped empty of anything else other than the woman feasting on your pussy like she has been starved for the past centuries. 

with the occasional spread of her fingers inside of you and her digits rubbing your sweet spot to mush, it unsurprisingly did not take long for you until your legs were quivering around her head, your juices spilling right over her fingers, you were technically fucking her face.

„mh-“, she allowed you to let you ride out your high on her hand before slowly rising back up from between your legs  and withdrawing her fingers.

„my… such a good girl… that certainly looked like it felt good, didnt it?“, licking over her lips before moving her soaked fingers up to her mouth, she didn’t break eye contact when putting her fingers between her lips to lick them clean of any of your remains.

holy mother of god.

you could only stare. panting. leaking. as she swirled her tongue around her fingers, even having the guts to slightly moan at the taste of you.

did she plan on killing you? because it was working.

„my… out of words, dove…?“, slowly letting her gaze glide over your shaking figure, a slight smirk tugged on the woman‘s lips. she was satisfied with the results of her works.

when you nodded lightly to her question she chuckled, „adorable… the chances are low, but you don‘t happen to own a strap-on do you?“

another reason to thank furina. she thought it was a funny idea to gift you one as your „coming-out-gift“. you thought she was being ridiculous. now you couldn‘t stop praising her in your mind.

„a-actually I do… left nightstand, l-lower drawer…“, you watched her hum in delight as she followed your instructions.

„now isn’t that just convenient for the both of us…“, peruere eyed the harness for a few seconds before it was buckled on around her hips with nothing more than a few smart handgrips. this woman couldn’t get any better. right…?

„my love, you are staring again.“, now laughing slightly as she leaned over you, a hand running down your thigh before pushing it up against your chest, you soon felt the tip of the dildo pressing against your drenched entrance.

„i just… i-i‘m just wondering… hah… what about y-your pleasure…? let me return the favor- ah-!“, peruere looked down at you as if you just said the cutest thing in the whole world as she pressed the tip inside.

she only spoke up after grabbing your chin and adding a few more inches into your clenching cunt.

„my pleasure? this. this right here…“, she slowly bends down to your face as you felt the tip kissing your cervix. you were now panting and whining right into her face.

„…is my pleasure.“, dragging her hips back before thrusting them right back into you as the older woman watched you fall apart underneath her with each of her movements, she angled her hips differently with each thrust, trying to see which one you enjoyed most before picking up the pace. 

everything was too much. her hitting your sensitive spot with each fuck of her hips back against yours. the hungry and desperate kisses she was showering you in. her free hand pulling and massaging your tit. it was simply too much for you. you had plenty of men before her but none of them ever cared to make you feel this fucking good. to make you moan right into the kisses she was drowning you in until you were gasping for air, running your hands through her messed up hair. then grabbing onto her toned shoulders when you begged her between soft whines and desperate pleas to fuck you harder. to show you what you have been missing out on with her.

she did not stop after you came a second time. nor after the third time.

you were all sobby and sweaty by the time she had you propped up in her lap, ramming her hips into yours while she gently encouraged you to ride her.

„just like that, doll… look at how great you are doing for me. does that feel good hm? i‘m sure it does… just look at how drenched my lap is in your arousal.“, she reached up to pull you into a hot kiss by your neck.

„one more, my pretty thing. you can do that for me. can‘t you?“, whispered words against your lips before pulling you right back against hers. her free had guiding you by your ass over her dick as you poor fucked out thing could do nothing but ride her like a good girl. she is going to have so much fun with you in the future. she still had to show you so many things, you surely want to experience it all with her.

right?

she quickly recognized your body growing shakier and weaker once again „mhm, that‘s right, come all over my lap…“

and you obliged. not like you had any other chance.

she let you calm down first, coming into your ear before carefully lifting you off of her lap.

„so good… now relax while i am cleaning up our mess, alright?“

you managed a soft smile and thumbs up. you weren’t capable of more right now.

all hail to furina.

[miange1]

Dexter, Angel, Brian, and James with someone who has a baby face w/ a deep voice

head cannons, male reader, reader has high moans, brian is a freak, doaks is secretly a freak, being way too curious with someone, they don't realize it's cause they're turned on and have a thing for you, spanish speaking reader on angel, kinda based off me, reader can be shorter or taller i really don't care

— didn't expect that out of you, by any means. you were the person who had called him to the crime scene, and since he had never really met you, he didn't expect to see that you're the one behind the call.

"There any blood?"

He meant to speak to angel, yet you answered right behind him and scaring the hell out of him.

"It's over here." He caught himself looking around, that couldn't have come from you? Could it? You had the face someone would steal a lollipop from.

"Uh..yeah, lead the way." He was so fixated on your face. Big, doe eyes your pretty soft lips parting at every 'ah..' of understandment. His mouth went dry even looking at you, why hadn't he noticed you before?

— When the two of you got together, it was very clear he had a thing for your voice. Especially whilst having sex, and he surely didn't expect your moans to be so high? Guess something made up for that pretty face of yours.

— Each time he was inside, he loved the way low groans turned into such needy and whiny moans for him. It turned him on when you talked him through, slow sex had him crumbing to you.

"Fuck..Dexter.." He thrusted inside slowly, taking in every single 'yes' and 'so good' Dexter himself wasn't at all a quiet person in bed, grunting and groaning along with you letting your own voices mix. He was so damn lucky.

— Yeah, you creeped him the fuck out.

— He wasn't one to care on people's voices, but damn did you get surgery or something? He might have called you 'kid' or something if you didn't sound like death crawling from hell itself.

— He was told to go to you for some sort of files, finding you at your desk.

"You the one I'm looking for? I need those files." He couldn't lie, his heart almost melted at the way you looked up at him. Was his voice too rough? Did he hurt your feelings? Damn.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Holy fuck.. nevermind.

— He made a rule for you not to sneak up behind him and to randomly start speaking. Scared the shit out of him when you did that.

"Right, Morgan said the victim had put up a fight before she was hit in the head, and—"

"What happened?"

"Oh my God— never again! Never do that again."

"Hm? What did I do?"

— He weirdly liked your face. Well, the cheeks of your face. If you did something dumb you would feel his fingers harshly punch at the soft skin of them. It was cute, he wouldn't lie about that. Your face stretching out as you whined for him to let go. It made his day, it really did.

— Now sex on the other hand, he would never reveal that to anyone. He was a professional, but on his own he would think of it from time to time. The way you would moan out his name, making that voice of yours crumble just from slipping the tip inside of you. His head would be on your shoulder, his own voice soft and talking you through it. He did that on purpose, so his ear would be close to your mouth. He desperately needed to hear it.

(he's so glorious i love him.)

— Debra was having another situation in which a witness couldn't speak English well, or understand it too much and he had been busy with someone else. So they called you over instead.

"Entiendo señora, haremos lo mejor que podamos pero por favor debe calmarse." Damn. He got distracted, drowning out the voice of who he was supposed to be listening to. Watching your face go into a look of understanding as the woman in the front of you hyperventilated, your voice so deep yet so calming as you rubbed her back and soothed her the best you could.

— He loved when you spoke spanish, whether it be small curses, or exclaims of excitement. He loved it all. But when you were speaking to him, he went all still. He could admire your voice from afar, yet right in front of him? No, absolutely not.

"Morning Angel," He froze up, snapping out of it quickly so he could at least muster up something back. "Yeah.." Yeah. Yeah? Was that the best he could do, jesus..

— Never had he expected to get with you. Let alone be able to fuck you. He was nervous at first. What was he supposed to do? He knew what to do, but he didn't at the same time. It was mostly a matter of being nervous rather than you being the first guy he's done it with.

"This feel good?" Paying attention to every single sound or movement you made, looking at you as if you were the light of his life. Your little 'Mhm' as he held your body close, going inside slowly and letting his hands squeeze at your hips and waist, soothing them.

"Oh, Angel.." Your accent made him shiver, his eyes fluttering shut and rolling back the more he thrusted inside. "Perfect.." He muttered, kissing your skin softly. "So perfect."

— Overtime, he would develop a weird liking to your throat. Everytime you spoke, he'd pay attention to your Adams apple and watching it bob as you spoke. He just wanted to choke you.

— Though first hearing you, he didn't know whether or not to be surprised or turned on. He found you weirdly unique, obsessed with your voice and always gave you reasons to talk. He would learn about your interest, just to make you talk even more.

"Oh, and my favorite actor had played in this movie and I feel as if.." and blah, blah, blah..

"Mhm..yeah,"

— He was listening, he swore it! And if he wasn't listening he had gotten some sort of recorder, just so he make use of it later on.

His cock leaked the more he moved his hand up and down. Trying to force himself to be quiet enough so that he could hear your voice clearly.

"Fuck.." Imagining you riding him, moaning like you depended on riding him and like you absolutely needed him. Voice wavering to whimpers and high moans— hell, he needed that so badly.

— Next day, he'd face you like nothing happened. Greeting you with a smile as you walked through the station.

"Morning Rudy!"

"Morning.."

[lucygraysboy]

“it’s very beautiful out here even in late autumn. peaceful,” he agrees with a hum, nodding his head. he understands, at least partially, why lucy gray doesn’t want to leave this place — there are no such views in thirteen. “you have a very beautiful laugh, you know? as beautiful as any bird’s song,” he compliments, his cheeks turning rosy. every time she laughs, the world seems to stop and listen, as if completely enchanted. and so does he. “we don’t have birds in thirteen, but i’ve heard they sing the most beautifully in the early morning hours.” glancing down at her hands once she mentions digging up worms, he thinks that explains the dirt under her fingernails and can’t help but beam at her. “you’re the kindest soul, lucy gray. we could build ‘em a feeder.” but he’d need tools for that, tools that are waiting for him back home. and what would they put in the feeder? they don’t have enough to feed themselves now, let alone care for other beings in need. so maybe it’s a silly idea, after all. “oh, yeah, the mockingjays. they’re very talented creatures. crazy how they came to be, right? i don’t think anybody in the capitol knew that the jabberjays would fall in love with the mockingbirds. they were hoping they’d just die off, alone and forgotten.” in their own way, the mockingjays are rebels, too. a slap in the face to the capitol. “a surprise, hm? not sure how i feel ‘bout those,” he playfully teases, never noticing the fact that she’s not wearing proper lingerie underneath her clothes. his eyes don’t linger on her chest, out of respect but also because he doesn’t want to be attracted to her and ruin the blooming friendship. “i boiled the water for your bath, think it’s still coolin’ off, but you go ahead and see if the temperature’s okay before jumpin’ in, alright?” he gathers a few extra logs, feeling the need to keep the fire inside going at all times — the house may be small, but it’s poorly insulated and could lose heat quickly if the fire went out. “oh, i see how it is… you want to teach her how to take care of herself so you leave her alone for a few minutes here and there, hm? i don’t think that means you’re a bad mom. you was just ‘round the corner, after all.” he comes up with an explanation of his own, laughing, putting the logs in the fireplace before taking off his jacket. he walks up to where reva blue’s sitting on the bed, a bunch of sticks laid out in front of her. “reva blue here says she wouldn’t trade you for no other mother.” curious eyes watching as she empties her shirt on the table, a sweet smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “oh, is that rose hip?”

“oh, look at that, they do seem pretty calm. hm?” eyes glancing up to the trees, amusement filling her spirit as billy plays along about the ‘neighbors’. shortly a laugh escaping her at his comment about hollerin’ like a madman, covering her mouth to be a little polite. “what do ya mean? birds do chirp around way up in the trees if you listen closely, one was desperate for food so i helped dig up some worms.” she replies, wondering if he’s skeptical of her. “and the mockingjays. they’ll sing whatever you tell ‘em to…” thinking back, how she intentionally had them singing to the tune to her voice to stir coriolanus even crazier. alright, maybe that was harsh of her, maybe she did go too far. but — he was going to kill her sooner than later, she justifies it with that. and him LYING to her. “well, you’ll have to wait on that.” a sheepish laugh as she holds her shirt to her chest, hand gently pushing him forward. she didn’t put her bra on, she’s suddenly very hyper aware— but she can’t tell him that. cheeks flush. and then he’s fixing her blanket around her, how doting of wn action that it leaves her momentarily stunned. “i am, i am.. i’ll be goin’ doin’ that now.” warm eyes flickering up on him, a little bashful still as she moves in past him. finding this concerning nature of his alarming in a surprised endearing way. “well, i figured she’d be alright for a few minutes… despite her young age.” lucy gray briefly turns to him once she stops at the kitchen table, laughter sounding from her again. how couldn’t she laugh at that? “or i’ll just go ahead an’ admit… i’m not the best mother.” amused smile on her face as she dumps out the nuts and rose hip onto the circular table from her shirt.

[icarusredwings]

Toast

(Yeah, he got the hello kitty toaster)

Sfw poolverinessa sick-ficlet

Cw: implied past eating disorder and cancer related puking

Vanessa never really knew why, but some days, Wade ate a lot of toast. Sometimes half a loaf. He would visit the bathroom often and come back smelling clean. Minty or lemon scented.

He'd smile and say "Why not? I like toast." When asked why but secretly she wondered if there was more to it.

It wasn't until Logan came around that she finally figured it out.

Here, in the morning, Wade had toast for breakfast. Simple really. Just two slices with jam. She had noticed Logan's gestures moved away from the lunch plans they were talking about.

"What about that place on 6th street?" He has said before, but now was suggesting a movie marathon at home.

What had changed? Within a wordless instant, they had taken lunch off the table.

"Maybe for dinner?" She asks, getting a curious look from Logan and a smile from Wade. Subtle enough to be unnoticeable if you hadn't been with him for the last 10 years.

"Yeah! Maybe. I heard they take reservations, though." Was all that was said, but Vanessa squinted, peering into those deep yellows, searching for any sort of falsification.

"Yeah... maybe." She repeats, only for him to glance back at Logan, taking a big bite of the toast. "So what movies are we gonna watch? Whatever you want. I'm not picky." Wade says, another sharp bite.

"What? Oh yes, you are." The scuff man smirks. "You're prissier than a lil miss pretty in pink pagent show."

"And I think you've been spending too much time with Rouge." Wade giggled. "What do you think V?"

"I think hes right. You ARE prissy and petty... And pathetic."

"Oi, you love pathetic men." He says, shoving the rest of the toaste in his mouth, jam falling down his chin.

Rolling her eyes, Vanessa kisses his lips, licking the jelly off. "That I do.. and you smell.. different." The tone it's said in is suspicious. Because it kinda was.

"I changed my body wash. This one's supposed to be gentle on skin. Wolvie said it would be better for me, but I think it smells like ass."

"It's irratant free." Logan budded in, taking a sip of his soda. "Which includes those perfumes."

"Look peanut, you might be able to get away with being all naturel with your manly wolvie musk but I smell like death." Wade says, eating the other toast.

"That's kind of an insult to Death, isn't it?" She asks, shifting to grab the remote, scrolling through their options.

"Oh definitely. She smells like fresh bloomed flowers after it rains." He mutters, filled with longing and well- Toast.

"Well, don't go dying on us just to see her, 'kay bub?" It's taken as a jabe, this serious statment was. As all things were to Wade, who only laughs, getting up.

"Yeah, yeah. Alright, you two choose. Don't have too much fun without me." He says, heading off to the bathroom.

Hm. Nothing seems out of place just yet. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she had a feeling something was wrong.

When Wade returned, he smelt of artifical mint and that gross cheap spray that gas stations used in their bathroom. The lemon kind that smelled more like chemicals then actual lemons.

Ood, but not unusual. Maybe they just got minty bar soap. Who knows. Though she didn't remember seeing any.. huh.

____

Later, just as they were starting the second movie, Logan had brought a big bowl of buttery pop corn and again a plate of toast. This time buttered.

"Hold on. I gotta go to the bathroom again. You know. Kidney cancer shit. Go ahead and start without me." Wade says, waving them off as he leaves.

Blinking, for a second, Vanessa wondered. This was his 6th time going to the bathroom already and not every time, but most times, he would be in there for a good couple of minutes.

"Is he okay?" She asked Logan, who shrugged, having the toast in his lap, holding it. "About as okay as he'll ever be I guess."

"Soo no. Got it.. hey, can I ask you something?" Vanessa scoots a little closer, quieting down her voice as the starting credits play on the tv.

"If it's what I think, the awnser is no."

"What? No! Not that. God... men. I was gonna ask.. Why does Wade eat so much toast? Doesn't it give him a stomach ache? I thought he was allergic to gluten for a while." She adds, whispering.

Logan now tilts his head, giving her a stupid look only to soften into a 'Oh yeah' expression. "Right.. not everyone has my nose. My bad. Wade eats a bunch of toast because it settles and soaks up his stomach acid. Mentioned something about 'it's better to have something to throw up then nothing at all' too, which I hope is about the stomach cancer and not.. nevermind." He waves his hand, shaking his head. "It's true, though. Trust me, I've threw up a ton as a kid, and it was always better to have something in there."

"So... every time he..." She gestures to the bathroom vaugey with her hand. "He's.. puking?"

"Yeh.. kind of suprised you didn't know already. Though.. I guess it makes sense." Logan mutters, thinking.

"He's been hiding it from me.." It's a statement as if realizing this on her own, now processing.

"It's not really your fault. He physically can't hide it from me.. I can smell it. I can smell him crying and hear him brushing his teeth too." He mutters, looking at the bathroom door, that now clicks open and out comes a freshly cleaned up Wade, smiling that fake, appeasing grin.

Vanessa goes silent about the subject, only scooting back over and patting his seat between them. "You're just in luck. The movie just started."

Coming over, Wade sits between them, pulling his feet up to tuck under Logan's ass with a cheeky grin.

"Here. Eat." He mutters, handing the toast plate to Wade, who immediately begins to eat it.

"Ooh! Wolvie you salted it like I like!" He coes, shifting to lean agaisnt him, nuzzling his cheek.

"Mhm. I remember. Also... Vanessa wants to ask you something."

Her eyes widden, looking at Logan with that 'bitch!?' Look only to smile nervously, brows going together in a sense of tensity.

"Yes!" Wade boarderline chants.

"No! Not that! God.. you both are disgusting. I... I wanted to ask... Why did you feel the need to hide it from me-"

"Hide what? He immediately asks, cutting her off.

"The fact that you're throwing up........again.."

The volume of the pause is deafening. Enough for Wade's fake grin to drop, instantly turning to Logan as if he had just cut his heart out and sold it to the goverment (fuck the goverment, a voice echoed in his head)

"Why did you- i-.. I don't know what you're talking about." He laughs, forcibly.

Both of his partners stare at him, quiet and not finding this behavior any funny.

"I'm not! Ness I-i don't-"

"Wade..." Logan mutters, giving him a look.

Tearing up, Wade shifts, tensing and holds his plate tight. "B-but I'm not!!... not like that. I-i swear! I-..." a couple tears fall down his cheeks as Logan rubs his back, taking the chance of being injured. "Logan helped me get better."

This confession hurts to say. Ness knows it. The way his voice tightened and how panicked he got.

"That's.. not what I meant, sweetie."

"Oh...OH.. well fuck.. I- c-Cause it's fucking disgusting?? Why would I want you to worry 'bout me anyway? I don't need anyon' to carry my burdens for me. I can do it myself. A-and look mighty sexy doing it!" He says, wiping his eyes and sniffling, seeming to stop crying now that it was clarified.

"He's right about that last bit.. how you make insane seem sexy is beyond me." The flirt from Logan makes Wade smile, which is all that was needed at the moment.

"Pfft- like you're one to talk.."

"Wade, Sweetheart. You are not a burden and neither is your bullshit. Logan might have married you first but your bullshit is still my bullshit. Yeah?"

"V, I'm already the phyco guy who looks like half raw half burnt bacon, okay? I don't need to be known as 'the guy that pukes all the time' too."

She blinks, a little taken aback. "..Is that how you think we see you?" Taking his hands, she starts to talk, but Logan interrupts.

"That's a lot of words for 'Sexy motherfucker with a big mouth and nice ass' but sure. Potato patato."

Smiling again, Wade giggles. "Sttoopp... dont stop."

"I won't. But you gotta litsen to her yeah? Or shes gonna go all dommy mommy on you and make you write those affermations again."

"Fuckin' hated that..." Wade mutters, letting her thumbs rub over his rough backroad like hands, over his knuckles and up his wrists.

"And I'll do it again. You look at me and you listen good. You are way more to me then you will ever know. You are ever changing. Evolving. So is my love for you. No, you don't have to tell me every little thing, but telling me you don't feel good shouldn't feel like being a burden. Got it?"

"Mhm.." Wade was looking away, not wanting to look her in the eyes. No, because then he would be forced to see all the truth love in her eyes, proof against all the lies that his mind has made him believe.

"Wade Winston Wilson-" She states.

"Shit... you didn't have to goverment name me.." He whines, looking at her, seeing deep into her soul. She was telling the truth. She loved him. Bullshit and all.

Tearing up again, he makes a whimper sound, lips curling into the biggest frown. "Y-you mean it?"

"Of course I do.. you don't have to hide what's going on, baby.... now come lay on my tits and watch a medicore overhyped movie." She grins, shifting to let Wade curl into her, an arm wrapped around him, petting his head.

Logan scoots closer, putting an arm around them both, Holding the popcorn, smiling. Finally. Someone had shoved some sense into that stupid head of his. Maybe now he'd stop lying about having to pee so much.

Settling into their cuddle pile, Wade fells better, the toast filling his stomach, love in his heart, and eyes dry.

".....I have to puke again." He mutters, not even an entire 45 seconds of being in their grasp.

Both Vanessa and Logan sigh, letting him get up. "At this point just bring the trashcan, bub."

"I would, buuut you might mistake it for me-"

"Damn it, Wade!!"

[project-sekai-news]

The Pegasus - An Interview

Welcome back to PJSK News! I'm your host, Tenma Saki, and because Hoshino couldn't be here today, I have brought a special guest! Special guest, how about you introduce yourself?

Good evening, everyone! I am Tenma Tsukasa, a world star! Many of you know me by my stage name, the Pegasus!!! Saki here is actually my little sister!

Hehe, Onii-chan, no headpats on camera! Anyway.. I have all the interview questions right here! Are you ready?

More than ready! Shoot!

Okay! First question: Tumblr user @sillystringstar asked: "Dear, Pegasus, why the horse name?"

That's an easy one! My surname, Tenma, means 'pegasus!' Therefore, I thought it only fitting to use that as my stage name!

I knew that one! Hehe, then I could use that as my pen name whenever I write articles! ..On second thought, that might be a little confusing.

Let's see, the next question is.. by @ithappenedonroute66 !! "If you are a star, then are you the sun and going to explode in the far future?"

E-er, you see, I'm not that kind of star! I'm a great and talented performer kind of star! BUT! I will explode in a blaze of glory in the future! You'll see, Saki, and uh.. it-happens-route-6!

I'll be waiting! ... user @agoist asked, "Why did you make that young girl cry by yelling “Dance and Sing” at her?"

Wh-where'd you here that from?! Ahem, I mean, the problem is solved! The girl was looking for her mom, is all! With Rui's help, the girl found her mom safe and sound, so you needn't worry about anything!

We're just going to ignore the fact that I blabbed.. next question, by @crime-soncloud! "Pegasus, what are your thoughts on the work of this news network, and what do you feel should be reported on more?"

This is a brilliant news network, run by my dear sister Saki and her friends! I try my best to listen to every single one of their reports! ..Though I haven't listened to the one about Akito yet! I've been a bit busy lately...

As for what should be reported on! I believe everything Saki and her friends report on needs their full attention! That being said, I recommend other Sekai's! So far, PJSK News has only reported on evnets happening around Shibuya Sekai, so if they could branch off to other Sekai's, I think that would be very cool!

Ooh, good idea! I'll talk to Ichi about that! Uh - also, the Akito going to jail one isn't that big of an event, haha..! There's no need for you to watch it!

Oh, really? Well, whatever you say, Saki!

Hehe, great! This next one is by.. @ova-kakyoin !! "what is your favorite part of performing? other than people smiling and having fun watching of course."

Hmm.. I'd say getting to know my fellow actors better! You mustn't only care for your audience! The wellbeing of the people you're performing with is also very important!

Well said! Okay.. user @sanri0add1ct asked, "dear Pegasus, why do you call your lunch a luncheon?"

Ah! 'Tis a name only fit for the glorious lunch eaten by the Pegasus!

You always put so much care into the lunches you make for yourself and me! Thank you, Onii-chan!

Anything for you, Saki! What's the next question?

Mm.. @25jpeg is wondering, "dear Pegasus what's your deal with Kamishiro?"

Ah, Rui! Hmm.. I'm not too sure what you mean by that!

Of course you know what they mean! Hm, like.. how he's always teasing you! Or.. oh! I heard from Toya that he sometimes sees the teachers chasing you two around the school~! Ooh, or maybe when you were rehearsing Ro -

Wait a minute! Where did you hear this?!

Well, I picked up the teasing one by myself, and like I said, Toya told me about how the teachers chase you two...

Ugh.. to think my wonderful fans would take our relationship like this..

Time for me to clear things up! ..Everyone, Rui is not bullying me!

...Huh..?

There! Now people won't think Rui is being mean! Rui is my great friend!

Onii-chan... hm. Don't worry everyone, he'll realize his feelings soon enough!

..My feelings..?

Anyway, next question~! @calleigator asked, "Mr. Pegasus Tenma, what are your thoughts on the ongoing apple pie thefts and what are you going to do about it?"

The apple pie thefts? Ah, I remember you and Hoshino reporting on this! I hope the thief will stop stealing apple pies and instead be a good citizen and pay for everything that they stole!

That's a lot of money to pay considering how many pies they stole...

But stealing is no good! As the Pegasus and a world star, I should be setting a good example for all the young children out there! Everyone, if you're listening, don't steal!

Aw, you're such a good influence! That's my brother for you!

Haha! You're a great sister too, Saki!

Ahem.. "Dearest Pegasus, your light shines brighter than any other. What do you plan to do about those who melt in your presence?" - asked by @monkie-see-monkie-do!

Melt in my presence..? Ah, I see, they melt because of my greatness! Well, my marvelous fan, if you melt in my presence, no need to panic! My light revives as well as melts!

Ooh, great answer! This next question is the last one, by @closegamecamo !! "Pegasus, what are your thoughts on those fake insects at stores?"

Fake insects..? Ugh, why would you ask me that.. er, I don't even remember what they look like!

That's fine! I brought one here with me just in case!

You wha - aaAAAAAAGGH!!

Haha, Onii-chan! It's just a caterpi - ahh, he fell down!

Eek! T-Tenma-senpai..? Is he okay?

Don't worry about it, Kohane! He'll be fine.. probably..

ONII-CHAN! The interview's still going!

..urk...

Ah, maybe it's a good time to stop..

Bye everyone! I hope your questions were answered by the great and glorious star, Tenma Tsukasa, the Pegasus! Let's keep this little incident between us, 'kay? Bye bye~!

..ugh.. aah, wait! Farewell, my wonderful fa - !

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Jason Todd Week Special! Day 1

A/N: this unofficial mini-chapter is part of the event being run by @jasontoddweek2025 and can be enjoyed without reading the rest of the story.

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, let me know if I missed anything worth tagging!

warnings/labels: flashback scenes, reader's mom is there, Jason's death is mentioned

wc: 716

CIGYN? Chapter Selection

The Batmobile came to a sudden stop in a dark alley. In an instant, Batman was out of the car and halfway up the wall, leaving the Batmobile unguarded in one of the worst neighborhoods in Gotham. It didn't take long for a small boy to approach, eyes scanning the darkness for the Bat. Nothing moved in the shadows, and a cautious grin spread across his face.

He ran over, eyes lighting up with the possibilities. He tried the door, delighted to find it unlocked. No keys, and the Batman kept a tidy car, but there were a few granola bars and beef jerky sticks that quickly made their way into his pockets. Once he was sure there was nothing else inside, he began pulling the tires off.

This was the best score ever! Food for tonight, and grocery money for later! He would probably be able to eat for two weeks from this one night's work! He got the first tire off and was working on the second when a deep voice rang out from behind him.

“What do you think you're doing?”

He jumped, swinging the tire iron in his hands without a second thought. The Batman loomed over him, falling back a step to dodge his improvised attack. The boy ran without a second thought, clutching his pilfered snacks to his chest. He ran halfway to his shelter on the other side of Crime Alley before he realized he wasn't being followed. He hunkered down once he got home, and for the rest of the night every shadow seemed to be alive, every noise set his teeth on edge.

“What do you see?” Batman spoke low, observing the city below them.

Robin adjusted his mask, frowning a bit. Dick's old uniform still felt a bit too big on him, like something he'd snatched out of a lost and found. After a moment, he whispered; “five cars. Route eight bus … looks pretty full. Couple kids leaving the park. … Raccoon climbing out of the dumpster behind the pizza place … can we get pizza after?”

“Focus, Robin. What else do you see?”

“... That girl … she's upset.” He gestured to a girl walking up to the bus stop.

“... Too young to be out on her own at this time of night. … We'll keep an eye on her.”

Robin nodded, adjusting his footing. She wasn't really paying attention to the world around her. A quick way to get killed in Gotham. Robin watched her, barely paying attention to the lessons Batman was trying to teach him. He watched as the bus arrived and a woman got off, approaching the girl. He leaned forward to watch. They were too high to hear the conversation, but the girl seemed glad to see her. The pair walked off, and he leaned back.

“... Are you ready to continue your training, Robin?”

“Hm? … Oh, yeah! Yeah, I'm ready!” He grinned.

“Mom?” I frowned. Mom never watched TV before work, and there were tears in her eyes. She gestured for me to join her on the couch, pulling me into a tight hug.

The police chief was standing behind a podium, flanked by armed officers. Off to the side was a large man in a well tailored suit. “-is being regarded as an act of terrorism, and as such all Gotham schools are being shut down for the time being. Parents, please keep your children home until further notice.”

“What’s going on?” I frowned, turning toward my mom.

“... The Joker kidnapped one of Bruce Wayne's kids. … The younger one, … god he's … he was just about your age …” she sniffled, hugging me tighter.

“... Was? Mom, what happened?”

“... Apparently Robin tried to save him … they both died. … The Joker killed them.”

I blinked repeatedly, looking at the tv again. The police chief was yammering on about safety measures Gothamites should take in the coming days, but I barely heard it. For as long as I could remember Gotham had been protected by Batman and Robin. Some people said they were cryptids, like some kind of vengeful Mothman. Others thought they were the living embodiments of the spirit of justice, or the city. It had never, not once, occured to me that they were human…

@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men @cottage-worm @v1ckycheesue @roastyyytoastyyy @sarakmec @thestarcatcher7297 @stupidlyunhinged @mishkapi @mermaidgirl-11 @bunniboo0015 @bibibusinessman @iimichie

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Fanart in the header by: @crowkip

☕💖CIGYN?☕💖 Taglist (y'all are being tagged in this first day of Jason Todd Week, but if you'd like to be tagged in the rest of my posts for the event please let me know, otherwise I'll see you all again when we resume our regularly scheduled programming!): 

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Forced Vacation- Part 3

Part 2

Hero felt so sleepy after lunch that they were sure Villain must have drugged them again. Everything had tasted so good, and Hero’s eyes had been bigger than their stomach. Villain slid over a bowl of passionfruit sorbet and Hero groaned. It looked so good, but they were so full, and so sleepy…

“Too tired to eat, hm?” Villain smirked.

“I don’t wanna waste it though,” Hero argued pitifully.

Villain waved over a henchman, who took the sorbet away.

“Don’t worry about it, you can have some later if you’d like,” they said, getting up.

Hero folded their arms on the table, then rested their head on them.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” Villain said, hoisting Hero to their feet, “the table is no place for a nap.”

Villain led Hero away from the patio while some henchmen cleaned up. They brought them back into the bedroom and patted the mattress. Hero obliged, laying right down on top of the comforter.

“There now,” Villain said, “you take a little rest.”

“Hmm,” Hero mumbled, halfway gone already.

Hero drifted off just as Villain draped a light blanket over them.

…

Hero woke up about two hours later. They opened their eyes, unsure what dimension they were in.

“Good afternoon, darling,” Villain greeted.

“Mm… what year is it?” Hero asked groggily.

“Oh, it’s still very much the year you fell asleep in, our robot overlords haven’t quite taken over yet,” Villain joked.

Hero sat up, stretching. Their hair was a tangly mess, and the blanket was twisted up around their legs. Hero had slept like a starfish. Villain gazed at them with a fondness that took Hero by surprise.

“Shall we get you fixed up for the spa?” Villain asked.

They approached Hero and took their hand, helping them up and leading them to a vanity.

“Spa?”

Villain sat Hero down and picked up a hairbrush.

“Yes, you of all people could do with a massage and a soak in the hot tub, believe me.”

Villain started to brush Hero’s hair, working the tangles out as gently as they could. When their hair was all sorted out, they braided it, working in tropical flowers here and there. Villain finished with a hair tie that matched Hero’s outfit.

“You’re blushing,” Villain noted.

Hero looked up to see Villain staring at them in the mirror. Sure enough, their cheeks were tinged a deep pink.

“It’s just a sunburn,” Hero lied.

“Ha! Not on my watch it isn’t,” Villain said, “I made sure to lather you up with sunscreen every two hours on the dot.”

…

Hero received a hot stone massage, followed by a coconut body scrub, and finished by getting in the nearby hot spring with Villain. They sighed in relief. The last bit of tension in their body melted away as the hot water did its work.

“I love you,” Hero sighed.

“Hm? What was that?” Villain asked.

Hero froze.

“Uh, I love food,” Hero said quickly, “and swimming, and island getaways.”

Villain smiled, a lopsided grin that made Hero’s heart beat rapidly in their chest.

“I do it all for you, my darling Hero,” they said.

Hero wasn’t sure how long Villain intended to keep them here, but for the first time since being taken, they didn’t mind at all.

Patreon

Ko-Fi

Redbubble

Master Tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm@memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog @electrons2006 @just-a-space-rabbit @telltaletoad @bacillusinfection @noseyowes @whump-till-ya-jump

Series Tags: @whump-bunny @kawaii-cakes @fangedcinnamonroll

[glphiess]

in this moment

pt 2

(wicked 2024)

warnings; slight smut

They had kissed. The barrier between them had finally been broken. Elphaba looked at Glinda, waiting for her to go on with her sentence. “It felt nice. Really… and i’m glad I was able to help you fall asleep, my dear.” Elphaba blushed a deep green. Her hand grazed that one spot on her neck where Glinda had kissed the night before. “Hm… maybe one day we could do that again.” Glinda added subtly. “Really? You’d actually want to?” Elphie asked. “Why of course! You are my best friend, after all… and I care for you oh so deeply.” They sat in silence for another moment. Elphaba took a deep breath, deciding if she should make a risky move or not. Her slim hands slowly made their way to grab onto Glinda’s waist which sparked an ‘Oh!’ out of Glinda. She pulled the blonde in and their lips met once again. This time, there was no hesitation. The kiss was sloppy and rough, as if both of them were needy for each other. Glinda’s hand ran through her dark, thin braids. She smiled against her dark green lips before her fingers started to fiddle with the buttons of Elphaba’s jacket. Startled, Elphie quickly pulled back. “Wait…” she uttered. “Just so you know… I-“ “Elphie, I know you’re green everywhere.” Glinda interrupted, chuckling at her remark. Elphaba nodded, giving Glinda the signal to continue. She pulled off her long black jacket which underneath revealed a green canvas. The only thing she was wearing underneath was a bra and underwear. She seemed embarrassed being so exposed, especially to Glinda. “Oh… you’re beautiful…” Glinda’s hands explored her body. Elphaba’s skin was soft, and she had a few freckles along her body just like on her face. Elphaba moaned at the contact and fell back slightly onto the bed. Glinda loved the reaction she was getting from her. She wanted to see how long it would take until Elphie gave in to her. Her lips made their way to her breasts. She kissed over them softly, just in case it was too much for her. Elphaba’s moans filled the room, music to Glinda’s ears. “Sweet Oz… Glinda I- Oh… I…” She didn’t seem to care how she was blabbering out any words she could think of. Her only focus was on Glinda. This was new for Elphaba. She’s never had any kind of contact like this, nor has she been shown any type of affection at all. Glinda hummed a song against her skin, one that Elphaba couldn’t make out. She loved seeing Elphie like this. It was adorable to her. She pulled back to look at Elphaba and it was that day Glinda realized how sensitive her roommate was. She had barely touched her and there she was, laid back, breath heavy, brows furrowed. Glinda watched her carefully, wanting to make sure she wasn’t uncomfortable. “Are you used to this kind of touch? You seem startled.” “No, i’m not used to it… it feels good though- just… don’t stop, please.” Glinda continued, giving every part of her upper body all the love she could. She could feel herself getting wet just by listening to Elphaba’s pleasured moans. She kissed her neck, then her chest, then down to her stomach. “If you want me to stop, let me know.” Elphaba didn’t reply. Her face was covered with one of her hands while the other gripped onto the sheets of the bed. “Elphie?” Glinda called out again. She climbed on top of her and propped herself up over her, moving her hand that covered her beautiful face. “I’m sorry…” Elphaba said, her face still flushed and her eyes still shut. “Elphie, you’re tense. Come here.” Glinda laid on top of her. She cupped her face with one hand and rubbed circles on her cheek with her thumb. In response, Elphie gave her a warm smile. “We should… go get something to eat.” “If that’s what you’d like, my dear. Come.”

[dollzites]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ GDRAGON AS YOUR HUSBAND!

୨ৎ pairing: husband!jiyong x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff! mild smut! & more fluff

୨ৎ from myeong: hi! thank you for requesting and I’ve been so excited to get this done for you! hope you can enjoy it x

ʚɞ GDRAGON VS JIYONG?

of course there’s a small difference here and there.. we are speaking about the gdragon himself! but he is still your caring, thoughtful, loving, affectionate, and kind man that you decided to marry hoping to spend the rest of your life with—which you will bc there is no way that he’s letting you go. never ever.

he’s the sweetest man. takes such good care of you and makes it his mission to get you whatever it is that you want or need—don’t even have to ask! if he knows you’re wanting something? you’ll have it.

will learn how to make your favorite dishes in an instant! say he’s not the best at cooking or maybe it’s just this particular meal? will go as far as taking a class just to learn how to make it the perfect way.

absolutely adores when you’re able to watch him on stage and no not just on the television he’ll want you at every concert or show he does. that’s when the king of k-pop comes out! but when the show is finished and his eyes find you? oh there is your cute and sweet jiyong again that’ll do anything for you.

a very touchy man he is—especially in the morning he’ll need to be wrapped around you. either his arm is wrapped around your waist or he’s got his arm wrapped around your shoulder pulling you closer to his warm chest, hearing the soft sound of his calm heartbeat that he always says “beats just for you.”

even when he’s in public with you and he is the gdragon himself.. he’s still your sweet husband and will always take care of you. he enjoys pushing his fingers through your hair and pulling you closer to him by your waist and looking down at you with a cute goofy smile on his face. nothing about this man changes just because you’re in public.

writes so many songs about you. the majority of them he won’t release and waits until he thinks they’re perfect to show you and he’ll call you into the studio for you to hear while you sit on his lap. he’ll stare up at you the whole time wanting to see your reaction and how you genuinely feel about it.

“what do you think, baby? I worked so hard on it and I just.. wanted to make it perfect for you—us.” his hand will be resting on your lower back and he’ll smile up at you from time to time just seeing how flustered you get from all of this. he loves that part.

not sure if this sounds weird! but I think it’s sweet and he’ll think it’s even sweeter but he enjoys slow dancing with you in the living room. picking out the perfect slow older korean song and grabbing you gently by the waist and slowly dancing with you even if you’re both not that good at it. it’ll be both a very romantic gesture and funny memory.

sometimes… you get gdragon in bed. he’s more rough with you but will always ask if this is okay first before he proceeds. sometimes he can’t help himself and craves you so badly that he becomes like a desperate animal in heat. his kisses are rough, hot, and messy against your lips while his hands roam your perfectly crafted body.

“fuck—you look so good underneath me like this. you always do.. such a perfect girl for me, hm? you like this don’t you? like it when I’m rough with you.”

he can go a few rounds. a few breaks in between to check on you and make sure you’re okay before he wants to go at it again. morning sex is also quite popular with him. he enjoys slow, romantic, and sweet morning sex. sometimes he’s a bit rough but he’ll apologize and ask if you’re doing okay.

you’re his passenger princess!! he’ll take you all over the place and rest his hand on your thigh, or grab at your hand and hold it like he’s never held it before and place soft pecks to your fingers. when stopped at stop lights he’ll take pictures of you before handing the phone over to you and asking to take pictures of him. he calls these ‘cute memories’

if you two get into an argument it won’t last. he doesn’t think it’s right to stay mad at you especially if the argument is such a petty one. he’ll break first and apologize and ask what he could do to make things better for the both of you. he enjoys being mature about it and handling things with care.

loves sharing his art with you and he eventually takes his art to another level and makes it all about you. pieces that he’s either worked on or just bought are strictly for you and he’ll wait for the perfect moment to show you and tell you about each piece and what it means for the both of you.

[ladylooch]

any sweet nico and little lucie moment, maybe when the house is chaotic and she just finds nico and he holds her

After the utter chaos of the past 48 hours, Nico Hischier sits in the living room with the TV on mute, and subtitles trailing at the bottom of the screen. He is trying to catch up on his show, do something not dad or hockey related because he needs a break for his mental sanity. 

Currently, their house is overrun with a stomach bug that Lexi had been fighting without him and Nico took over when he returned home from Toronto. Lexi had fallen ill within a couple of hours of him being home, almost like her body knew it couldn’t succumb into help arrived.

Lucie had been first, then the dominos started to fall from there. Even Lio and Livy got sick at the house down the block. Mack crumbled next, followed by Sophie. Although, the more Nico observes Sophie, the more he thinks it might be a teething thing for her. 

But his wife? Yeah, she is down bad with it. 

Nico knows it’s only a matter of time before it finds him too. That’s how viruses work in the Hischier household. 

He is really not looking forward to that. 

He sighs in annoyance, rubbing at his stubbled cheeks, then pushes his long hair back from his face. He needs a hair cut. He needs to call for a dry cleaning pick up. He needs to grab some groceries and some more pedialyte. He needs to pull the Devils’ latest call up to the side and make sure he is adjusting to the team okay. The team needs him down the stretch.

Even when he is trying to get a break from it all, his brain won’t stop. Not when it comes to taking care of his teams, on and off the ice. 

Movement to his left has Nico double taking towards the stairs. At the bottom of them, hugging the banister is Lucie. Her hair is wild, sticking every which way and her light pink, pajamas are twisted about her body, like she was fighting in her sleep. One of her hands rubs at her nose and the other one pushes her hair back from her face like he had just been doing. 

“Hi daddy.” She whispers. 

“Hi sweets.” He responds to her, opening his arms. “What’s going on?”

“I wanna watch TV with you.”

“Are you feeling sick?”

“No.”

“Okay, well, you have school tomorrow, so if you don’t need something, you need to go back to bed.”

“I need water.” She blurts. Nico blinks measuredly. He does not have the patience to argue with Lucie, so he gets up and grabs her a small cup. “Can I drink it here?” She asks as he holds his hand out to her to go back upstairs. 

“Lulu…” Nico trails off, looking at her face. He pauses. When did she start to look so grown up? He closes his mouth then silently nods. 

It’s an hour of watching TV. Lucie sits quietly while Nico watches his show. She doesn’t ask for him to change it for once. It’s relatively kid appropriate, so he isn’t worried about any of the content she takes in. She sips her water gently and folds her little hand around his forearm as she snuggles into his side. When he insists it’s bed time again, she doesn’t fight him. Probably because her eyes had already been closed for the last ten minutes of the episode. He hauls her up into his arms, letting her head settle on his shoulder before he begins to move her upstairs.  Then he returns her to the unmade bed she crawled out of not long ago.

“Daddy?” Lucie startles him with her quiet voice. He thought she might be asleep.

“Hm?”

“I didn’t need any water earlier.” She whispers to him. “I just wanna spend time with you.” Her words are so sweet and innocent that they choke Nico up. He clears his throat, sniffing a bit then leaning down to kiss her forehead. 

“You are the sweetest girl, Lulu. And I love you so much. We will have lots of time together for break, yeah?”

“Yeah.” She answers, nodding. “I can’t wait.” 

“Me too, baby. Go to sleep please.” 

“Okay.” She closes her eyes for a moment. Nico looks down at her, sensing his daughter isn’t quite done with him. She gave in too quickly to his request for sleep. “Daddy?”

“Hm?” He asks her, not moving from his spot on her bed. 

“Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?” 

Nico knows giving Lucie an inch is a tough call. Because this will be a fight every night for the next two weeks he is in town. But he also knows, a day is coming, likely soon, where Lucie won’t ask him for this again.

So Nico ignores how tired he is. Ignores the rules and the intuition in his gut that says, you’re gonna regret this, and he lays down next to his daughter. Her little hands pat at his chest, and she snuggles in deeper to her pillow as Nico watches her sigh contently. Like there is nothing else in the world she needs besides him.

Her white noise machine quiets out the rest of the world, including his never ending thoughts about illness, to-do lists, and team activities. 

Within the stillness of Lucie's room, Nico rubs his daughter’s back until she finally falls asleep, wishing, pointlessly, he could keep her this little forever.

[allisluv]

COMING CLEAN

pairing: finnick odair x fem!oc

content warnings: concussions, disassociation, teasing, sexual jokes and innuendos, sweet finn and dahlia moments!!, nicknames and pet names, gore, blood, angst, death, burning, miscommunication (?), not being able to tell what's real, mercy kill (im sorry in advance yall).

word count: 4.8k

previous chapter -- next chapter.

Dahlia always finds it harder to keep a grip on reality in the evenings and tonight is no exception. Her concussion isn't helping matters and it takes every ounce of willpower she possesses to stop herself from falling asleep.

Mags has curled up in a ball like a cat, her chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths, and both Peeta and Wyatt are snoring like trucks. Katniss is as alert as be damned, refusing to do so much as to even close her eyes.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Finnick asks, knocking his shoulder into Dahlia's. He frowns when she recoils away from his touch. She's never done that before, and it makes him wonder if he's done something wrong. "You okay, honey?" She nods her head, eyes unfocused as she stares off into the distance. "Dahlia."

Her head snaps to the side so fast he thinks she gave herself whiplash. "Huh?"

"I asked if you were okay," Finnick says slowly, brows knitting together and causing the skin on his forehead to criss-cross with worry lines. "What's going on in that pretty little head of yours, hm?" He asks, itching to reach out and tilt her head towards him, but knowing that she probably won't appreciate it given her previous reaction. "Talk to me."

Dahlia worries her bottom lip between her teeth. "Just... thinking," she says, lifting her shoulders up into a shrug.

"Anything you wanna share?" Finnick teases, tilting his head to one side in an effort to catch her attention. She doesn't blink, and he starts to worry that it's a side effect of her concussion. "I'm serious, honey, are you okay? Do you feel alright?"

"I'm fine," Dahlia insists. "You worry too much, Finn," she says, turning to look at him. He smirks, and she glares at him. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

He chuckles under his breath. "You called me Finn," he sings, watching as her face crumbles and the blood rushes to her cheeks. "In all the time I've known you, honey, you've never gave me the privilege of a nickname."

She ducks her head to hide the colour in her face. "I call you an asshole," she supplies, trying to sway him into a different conversation altogether. "Surely that counts for something."

"You're deflecting!" He points an accusing finger at her and breathes out a laugh. "Oh my God, you're blushing! You're embarrassed!" He wears a shit-eating grin and before Dahlia has time to catch the thought and question it, she wonders if kissing him would make his ego inflate more or less. "Don't worry, honey. Personally, I think you should start calling me it more often. I mean, its really doing something for me here."

She snorts indignantly. "You're an animal. An actual animal."

Panem's national anthem sounds throughout speakers hidden around the arena and the fallen eight tributes are shown on a hologram high in the sky. Mags and the others stir from their sleep, tossing and turning as they push themselves up onto their elbows to peer up at the night sky. The anthem ends, and the hologram fizzles out.

"There's sixteen of us left," Peeta announces, voice quiet and laced with tiredness. He rests his head on Katniss' shoulder, eyes fluttering shut once more before the steady sound of beeping brings him back to reality. He groans, and stands to his feet, dragging his prosthetic leg behind him as they all move to crowd around the small parachute that has landed on the mossy jungle floor.

No one moves to open it, so Katniss takes matters into her own hands. She hastily rips open the  packaging and reads the paper note aloud. "Drink up? It's from Haymitch."

"What is it?" Finnick wonders aloud, cocking his head to one side as he tries to study the small, metal object in Katniss' hands. "You can't fish with it, anyway. I've never seen that before in my life and trust me, being from four, I would have seen it if it had anything to do with catching fish for food."

"I think it's a spile," Katniss practically trips over her own two feet as she rushes to a nearby tree, throwing an explanation over her shoulder as she uses the jagged edge of a rock to dig the spile into the trunk. "It's kind of like a faucet. You put it in a tree and sap comes out."

"Sap?" Wyatt sounds bewildered. They don't have many trees in District Nine, and the few they do have wouldn't be the same ones that Katniss is referring to. "What the fuck is sap?"

"It's kind of like honey," Peeta answers as they crouch down beside Katniss and the tree. "You use it to make syrup. There must be water inside of these trees." He says excitedly. "Come on," he mutters under his breath, hoping to anybody who's listening that they haven't gotten their hopes up for nothing.

Just as they are starting to wonder if they've made a mistake and gotten this completely wrong, a trickle of water pours out of the spile, soaking the moss beneath their feet.

Dahlia could quiet literally sob her heart out at the sight of fresh water. She paces as she waits her turn, letting the others drink their fill before stepping near it herself. Ducking her head, she gulps back the water, feeling it soothe her scratchy throat.

It's warmer than any of them would have liked but beggars can't be choosers, and right now, the group of them would drain a bottle of damn bleach if it meant having something to drink. Mags is too fragile and old to bend, so Finnick instructs her to sit down and pours some water into a large leaf, using it as a bowl for her to drink out of.

Without their thirst to distract them, exhaustion takes over. Peeta is the first to fall asleep and both Mags and Wyatt follow soon after. Katniss reluctantly dozes off after an hour, head resting against Peeta's shoulder, and within a matter of minutes, they are tangled together like koalas, clinging to each other.

Everyone sleeps through a bell tolling twelve times and then a lightning storm on the far side of the arena and Dahlia can't help but wonder if they would sleep through a tornado, too.

Dahlia keeps her sickles firmly grasped in her hands as she and Finnick sit silently side by side, using a tall tree with long leaves to protect them from the weather, because despite it being the night time and the sun having gone away long ago, the air is still stuffy and humid.

Finnick convinces Dahlia to play twenty questions with him, but he's yawning after ten minutes. "Go to sleep," she instructs, coaxing him into resting his head in her lap. He resists, and she fixes him with a glare. "Don't be stubborn. You're clearly tired."

"And you have a concussion," Finnick retorts, cracking his knuckles one by one. "I'm fine."

"Bullshit," Dahlia says, refusing to give up. "Just lie down on my lap. I'm not going to bite."

"What if I'm into that kind of thing?" Finnick grins, trying to play it off with humour to hide how afraid he is of being vulnerable with someone. Even though it's something as simple as laying in someone's lap, it sends him into panic mode.

Dahlia cocks her head to one side, studying his face. "You don't have to be afraid of me, Finn. I'm not going to hurt you," she coaxes, watching as his shoulders sag ever so slightly, the tension his muscles hold dissipating. She sucks in a deep breath before taking a big step out of her comfort zone. "Baby, just lie down. I'm not gonna stop irritating you until you get some sleep."

His expression softens and Dahlia steels herself for his resistance. It never comes. Instead, he lies his head in her lap, using her thighs as pillows, and tucks his hands under his head. "Wake me up when you get tired, yeah?"

Dahlia's so taken aback by his willingness to trust her that all she can do is nod her head like a damn fool, and mutter a quiet, "Okay."

His body is taught with tension, clearly feeling out of his comfort zone as much as she's feeling out of hers. She smooths his golden curls out of his eyes, and he melts into her touch, allowing himself to take that leap of faith and place his trust in someone for the first time in his life. Blunt fingernails scratch at his scalp and he sighs contentedly, letting his eyes flutter shut.

A tiny smile pulls at the corners of Dahlia's lips. "I'm not going anywhere," she murmurs under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear her over the sound of the wildlife in the jungle. "You can go to sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up."

It seems that her reassurance is all he needs to hear, because he drifts off quickly, his chest rising and falling with soft breaths. She continues to smooth his hair back out of his face and comb her fingers through his golden locks.

She can't help but think how nice it would be for him to lie in her lap more often, but then her mind involuntarily takes her back to nights spent with Capitol men, and she shakes the idea out of her head. Sure, Finnick might be nice, but some of those men were nice, too, and it didn't turn out well in the long run.

A situation like this could only end one way and that was with Dahlia hurt and alone.

She refused to put herself through that agony again. She wouldn't let herself grow fond of him, even if deep down, she wanted to. It wasn't an option. It wasn't in the rules she had set out for herself. It was the one protocol she refused to break; falling in love.

Her head runs at a million miles a minute. She thinks of all the things that could go wrong if she let herself get attached to him. She could let him in, and he could break her heart, or worse, use her secrets against her. Her breathing grows fast and she has to consciously remind herself that she's catastrophising.

Bloom would tell her that she doesn't have a magic wand and can't see the future. Malaki would make her a cup of chamomile tea and sit her down in front of the roaring fire. Juniper would tell her she can't miss out on the opportunity of falling in love because she's scared, and in her head she tells Juniper to leave her alone, only because she knows she's telling the truth.

Minutes stretch into hours and there's no sound apart from the occasional gasp of air as Katniss wakes up and panics, only relaxing when her eyes lock onto Peeta snoring peacefully next to her. Dahlia watches this happen three or four times, and each time Katniss wakes, she whispers that it's okay. Katniss glares at her, but there's no malice behind her gaze, just distrust, which she can not be blamed for.

Dahlia narrows her eyes when she catches sight of a fog rolling in, and Katniss follows her line of sight. It's quick, much too quick to be caused by the weather, and Dahlia doesn't trust it. It's not natural, and it looks too thick, almost like the clouds have fallen from the sky.

Katniss outstretches her hand warily. Her fingertips barely graze the fog, but it's enough. With a guttural scream, she pulls her hand back, writhing on the floor and yelling out in pain. Although Dahlia is a few inches away, she can hear the sizzling of Katniss' skin as it blisters and boils.

Katniss starts to shake Peeta awake, shouting a warning over her shoulder to the others. "Run! The fog is poison! Run!" 

Dahlia shakes Finnick awake and he shoots up iron-rod straight as if he's been poked in the back with a hot poker. "What's going on?" His eyes latch onto hers as he snatches his trident up, ready for battle.

"Run!" Dahlia screams as Wyatt helps him with Mags. She runs towards the fog, looping her arm through Peeta's, who's not able to run as fast as the others; he's still only getting adjusted to his prosthetic leg and the aftereffects of hitting the forcefield are showing. Katniss accepts her help gratefully for once, and between the two of them, they propel him through the jungle.

He trips over vines and branches, and the two girls are practically carrying him as the wall of fog gains ground on them. The mist extends further than the fog and latches onto their skin, burning like tiny flames. Peeta falls once more and stays down as the fog causes boils to show up all over the side of his face.

Dahlia slips, grabbing him by the hand and yelping when her skin touches the fog. Katniss failed to mention just how badly it stings, and she wants to wring Plutarch's neck for putting them into this situation. Finnick and Wyatt scream in the distance and despite all of her instincts telling her to move for them, she can't leave Katniss and Peeta alone. "C'mon. You can do it. Just follow our steps," she says, dragging him to his feet and not giving him much of a choice in the matter.

The blisters seem to have weighed him down some more and they're moving at a slower, stickier pace than before, which is definitely saying something. They trip once more and Dahlia's head is so sore that she stays down, hoping the fog will just take her, hoping that it won't be painful.

Wyatt slows to a stop beside them, skidding and slipping in the mud with Finnick and Mags right behind him. He gently taps Dahlia on the side of the face until her eyes open. "Don't think about it," he warns, hoisting her onto her feet and watching as she slips and falls again. He turns to the others. "She can't walk on her own. She's not even meant to be exerting herself."

"I can't carry Peeta," Katniss says, eyes prickling with tears. "I can't do it."

Finnick looks between Katniss and Peeta, at a loss. Mags hauls herself up, pats Finnick on the shoulder and plants a kiss on his cheek. "Mags?" He shouts as she heads straight for the fog. It takes both Katniss and Wyatt to hold him back from going after her. The canon sounds as he lets out another desperate plea of her name. "Mags!"

"We have to go," Katniss begs. "We have got to get out of here."

"She's right, Finnick," Wyatt says, lifting Dahlia over his shoulder like she weighs nothing. "I'm so sorry, but we have to keep moving. You understand that?"

Finnick sucks in a deep breath and loops one arm around Peeta's waist, while Katniss does the same to his other side. Time loses all sense of purpose as they bolt through the jungle, losing their balance and falling down an embankment.

Wyatt cradles Dahlia's head in his hands, using himself as a human shield to stop her getting a worse concussion than the one she already has. He takes the brunt of the fall, gasping when he makes contact with the solid ground, winded but thankful that he's spared his district partner. 

None of them move as they wait for their imminent deaths to arrive--- but it never does.

Dahlia eventually crawls off Wyatt, lying flat on her back in the moss. She tilts her head to one side and watches as the fog condenses, pressing up against what looks like an invisible wall that pushes it back the way it came. "It's stopped," she croaks, head pounding with pain as she rolls onto her back once more.

Every bone in her body aches and the boils on the back of her neck sizzle and burn. All she wants to do is retreat into her head where it's safe and warm and nothing bad can happen, but right now, she knows she can't afford that luxury. So, instead, she stays as still as she can, and counts the number of stars in the sky to stay tied to the real world, no matter how awful the real world may be.

Katniss screams but she hasn't got the energy to turn her head and see what's happening. She closes her eyes, unable to stop her brain from shutting off. It's okay, her head tells her, just rest now.

One minute she's baking cookies with her mother and the next, Finnick's hovering over her with that worried crease between his brows. She swims in the lake with Ivy, only to find that someone is holding her underneath the water.

She immediately interprets it as a threat, thrashing about, and when she opens her mouth to scream, it achieves nothing; all she does is inhale a massive amount of saltwater. She vaguely makes out the sound of muffled shouting before she's yanked from the water, where she begins to cough up a lung.

Blindly, she reaches out and grabs hold of what feels like a rock, using it to haul herself up onto dry soil. Someone's hands are firm on her face and she lashes out, kicking and flailing about as she tries to wriggle her way out of their grasp.

"You're gonna hurt yourself," Finnick argues, voice firm but gentle as he blocks all of her attacks without breaking a sweat. "I don't want to touch you but if you keep writhing about, I'll have to."

Dahlia pries her eyes open and carefully looks up at the sound of his voice. Finnick frowns down at her, hands held out like he's approaching a frightened animal. His golden curls are flat on the top of his head from being wet and the corners of his eyes are crinkled with concern. "Stay--- just stay where you are," she warns, feeling around in the moss for her sickles and grabbing hold of them.

Hurt flashes across Finnick's face before he recovers. "Come on, now, honey, don't be stupid. I'm not going to hurt you. You know that." He takes a tentative step forward, only to find out that she is in fact, not, bluffing. She swipes with her sickles and he narrowly hops out of the way. "Honey. Calm down. You're fine."

"I don't want to do this," she pleads. "So just stay there for a minute."

Finnick nods his head reluctantly. "Alright. I won't come any closer. Just clam down, yeah?" He says, sitting on a nearby rock. "Take a breath. You're okay."

Dahlia glares at him, but there's no real heat behind her gaze. Finnick doesn't take it personally, anyway; he knows that she is just putting her walls back up because she's scared, and that's the only way she knows how to protect herself. "You tried to kill me," she snarls.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Finnick laughs incredulously. "Why the hell would I do that?"

"Well, why else were you holding me under the water?" she snaps, holding out her sickle. "You better start explaining."

Finnick sighs. "The water helps with the burns from the fog."

"What fog?" Dahlia asks, mind still hazy from swapping and changing from the world in her head and the one that's real. Finnick's brows dip and it takes a minute for her to piece together what's going on. "The poison fog?"

He nods slowly, and answers with, "Yeah. Did you not notice the burns are gone?"

She looks away for a moment, making sure to keep him in her peripheral vision as her hand flies up to touch the skin of her neck. It's still sensitive and warm to touch, but there's no more lumps or boils. "I don't understand. This can't be real. This is just something I made up in my head."

"No, honey, it's real," Finnick soothes, wanting nothing more than to just reach out and wrap her in his arms. He can see the doubt in her eyes, and he sighs. "Do you remember when I promised I would tell you the truth, hm?" She hums suspiciously. "Well, I don't break my promises. This-- all of this-- is real. I swear it."

Dahlia shakily pushes herself to her feet and says, "I believe you." She can feel the others staring at her as she sits in the small creek of water. Wyatt and Peeta go to find some fresh water from a nearby tree using the spile and Katniss gathers their weapons together, leaving her and Finnick on their own.

She soaks her feet and slowly lowers herself in until she's floating on her back. It's something that Wyatt taught her to do years ago. A grounding technique, he had called it. She still doesn't really know what's that's supposed to mean, but for some reason, it works.

Finnick scoots closer to her, inch by inch, until he's sitting in the water only a few feet away from her. "You okay now?"

Dahlia stares at the sky to stop herself from having to look at him. "I'm sorry. I just.. get confused sometimes."

His tongue darts out to wet the corners of his lips. "Can I ask... why?"

"It's a long story."

"I have time."

"I don't know how to explain it," she answers honestly. "I can't put it into words."

Finnick hums his acknowledgement. "That sounds hard to deal with. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Dahlia frowns. "I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"No one's ever asked me that before," she admits.

"Ever?"

"Ever." She pauses, the words lingering on her lips as she sits up in the water. "I'm sorry about Mags. I know how much she meant to you."

His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows the lump in his throat. "She was never going to make it."

"That doesn't make it hurt any less," she says gently. "I'm here, you know that, right? If you need to talk to me, I'm here. I can't promise I'll always have the answers, but I'm a good listener. Or so I've been told, anyway."

Finnick opens his mouth to thank her, but the words get caught in the back of his throat as his gaze catches on something over her shoulder. She stills, too afraid to move in fear of what he's looking at. Neither of them speak as they reach for their weapons at the side of the creek, and that's when Dahlia sees it.

Heavy creatures balance on branches in the trees, tufts of orange fur sticking up in all directions as if they've been electrocuted.

"Monkeys," Dahlia mutters under her breath. Finnick looks at her as if to ask how she knows. "Ivy asked for one for her birthday, but they didn't look like these ones."

Katniss quietly sneaks up on them, pressing her back against theirs to provide coverage from all angles. Her bow is loaded with two arrows, as she tells them, "They're mutts." She calls for Peeta and Wyatt, who turn around at the sound of their names, faces dropping as they see the animals surrounding them. "Walk over here slowly," Katniss instructs.

Peeta grabs the spile and his sword while Wyatt pulls a couple of daggers out of his back pocket. It's hard for Peeta to keep his steps quiet with the loud thump of his metal leg hitting against the moss, but he manages it, little by little.

"We need to get to the beach," Wyatt mutters to the others, spinning on his heel as the monkeys start to crowd in on them. One lunges for him and Dahlia rips it's head off with one swift swipe of her sickle.

The mutts are relentless with their attacks, and nobody holds back as they fight off the animals. Katniss is pushed underwater by one and Wyatt spears his dagger into it's chest, helping her up as the monkey's body goes limp. "Go! Get to the beach!"

Despite the beach growing closer and closer the further they run, the mutts are gaining ground on them, and fast. Dahlia screams in pain when one sinks it's claws into her leg and kicks it full force in the face. She hobbles towards the beach, swiping and hitting out with her sickles, letting out all of the rage she's kept bottled up for years on end.

They are mere metres from the beach when it happens; a mutt has Peeta pinned against a tree, ready to make one final blow, when a camouflaged morphling from Six jumps out of her hiding spot in the treeline, allowing the monkey to sink it's claws into her chest.

Peeta gasps and sinks his sword into the monkey's back, tossing it off the morphling. Between him and Katniss, they manage to carry her to the oceanfront, while Dahlia, Finnick and Wyatt try to hold off their attackers.

As they reach the beach, Dahlia turns her back for a split second to make sure they haven't left anyone behind.

A split second is all it takes.

Wyatt starts to scream bloody murder, and then it dies out into nothing but a dull whimper.

She turns back around.

Three monkeys have pounced on him, pinning him to the ground, sinking their claws into him over and over and over and over again.

A scream tears out of Dahlia's throat as she rushes to his side, using her sickles to slash at the monkeys and pushing them off of him like they weigh nothing. The monkeys snarl at her as she grabs Wyatt under the arms and starts dragging him across the sand, leaving a streak of crimson in his wake.

Dahlia sets him down gently on his back, trying her hardest not to panic when she catches sight of the blood seeping from his stomach and neck. "Oh God," she cries, hands tremoring violently as she tries to stem the bleeding.

Wyatt tries to speak, but only a gurgled sound comes out, followed by a trickle of red. "It hurts," he manages to choke out.

Dahlia starts to sob as she grabs his hand. "I know. I know, but you'll be fine. You hear me, it's going to be okay."

"Kill me."

Dahlia's blood runs cold. "What?"

"Kill me. Put me out of my misery."

Her voice shakes. "No." Finnick's at her side, a reassuring hand on her back. She can barely feel it. "No. I can't-- I won't!"

"If you don't do it, I'll do it myself," Wyatt reaches for a dagger and Dahlia tosses it into the sea. He grabs hold of the front of her wetsuit. "I'm begging you."

"You can't ask me to do that," she sobs, chest heaving as she struggles to catch her breath. "You can't ask me to do that. It's not fair! I won't. I won't!"

Wyatt frowns, tears trickling down his face. "Please, Dahlia. Please. I'm scared."

Dahlia hunches over, screaming and crying as Finnick tries to coax her into his arms.  "Close your eyes." She begs.

"What?"

"I can't do it if you're looking at me. I can't."

"I don't want to see the dark," Wyatt gasps. "I don't want the last thing I see to be darkness."

Dahlia wants to be sick. But she has to stay strong. If not for herself, for Wyatt. "It's okay. I'm gonna be right here with you, holding your hand." She intertwines their fingers together and he lets his eyes flutter shut. A tear rolls down his cheeks. "You see that light? You see it?"

"I see it," Wyatt whispers. "I see it."

"You're gonna follow it for me, okay?" She muffles a sob into her hand as she raises her sickle and presses the sharp end into his throat. He breathes out a sigh of relief and she nearly keels over at the sound. "I need you to follow the light, yeah? It'll be okay. The light will take care of you."

"Okay," Wyatt murmurs, brows knitted together as if he really can see the light.

"It's going to be okay." Dahlia repeats. "Okay?"

"Okay."

The canon sounds, he goes limp in her arms, and Dahlia bolts up the beach.

[thesevro]

[nanami kento] your stranger

VILLAIN NANAMI KENTO/MALE READER SMUT CW: Explicit scenes of sex, overstimulation

I'm imagining a villain Nanami here. I remember I started writing this in June, ngl I have not seen much of JJK since very early last year so Nanami is not like himself here MWAHAHa Backshots from an angry, tired, drunk salaryman below my bro

PREVIEW: “Unless you’d like me to feed you first,” he mutters, looking back at you as he slots the key into the lock.

You stare back at him, not quite appalled by the request, but by his gall. 

“Your boyfriend just bro” —he slurs through the word— “-ooke up with you, hm? I could take your mind off that. And feed you, if you like.” He licks his lips. “Sir.”

—

The train is, as per usual, seating several of the typical unfortunate salarymen held back until mind-bendingly late by their bosses. They’re all luckier than you. You’d been out dancing and grinding on stranger after stranger in every club in Tokyo, crying on your friends’ shoulders after reading the pathetic break-up text you got earlier that afternoon. Your head falls into the crook of your elbow. The pain is a sorry thing. Toji was good comfort for your body, that was all it ever was. But remembering him has you swaying on your feet as you grip the handhold above you.

At 00:30, with half-drunk tears pricking your eyes, one of these drunk men finally bumps into you. He’s handsome enough to make you less annoyed; just another stranger to move your body with. Politely. 

Your hands find his hips to right his balance. “Careful, sir.”

His balance remains unruly. Discordant enough with the rest of his body to have him falling back into you as the train speeds over a particularly bumpy track. You grunt, accommodating his weight with your hands even more firmly wrapped around his hips.

“Sir,” you say, “I’m going to have to move you, is that alright?”

He mumbles something and nothing. You frown, meeting his gaze to gauge his reaction further. Fuck it all if you’re embarrassed, having to manhandle a heavy, handsome blonde into a seat on the train. His eyes have that pit in your stomach dropping with greater weight. His gaze is sharp, perhaps not lucid but entirely alert. Whatever you’re doing, however you’re helping him, he’s the one letting you do it.

You give him a smile. He doesn’t match your ignominy, or your discretion. His feet stumble one over the other as you guide him into a chair with your body supporting him from his armpit, your arm around his wide shoulders. The man is big.

Against your better judgment, you decide to take the seat next to him.

“You, uh… think you’ll be able to get home alright?”

“Mmm.” Your ears savor that small sound. His voice is deep. Smooth as velvet. “Don’t… about me.”

His head thumps into the back of the seat. Huh, respect. From that vigilance in his eyes alone you know he’ll be fine on his own. Could probably rip someone to pieces in the dark with his bare hands, drunk or not. His fingers are thick, his hands popping with veins. 

His Adam’s apple bobs as his voice fills your ears. Ah. You’re watching him a little too closely. “H-help me home. Think your grip h-hurt my hips.”

You nearly jump away from him in sheer humiliation. “Oh, I’m so sorry. You were a little heavy. I had to—”

“Just help me home,” he repeats, slurring through his words. Every time he speaks, you have to lean in, face moving so close to his you can feel his breath with every word. Man must be a mumbler at work. His state of utter inebriation rips through every quality of communication he might already not possess. “Sure you’re strong enough for it.”

You follow him off the train, watching him from a distance until you reach the stairs. You shake off the embarrassment and hold an arm out to him. He lets you wrap your arm around his shoulders, holding him steady as his feet stumble down the stairs. You laugh a bit when you nearly trip with him. 

“What. Are you laughing. At?” he snaps.

“This whole setup is worse,” you say honestly. “It’s like you’ve given the both of us six feet each.” 

“I jus’” —he hiccups, and for the first time you find him cute instead of handsome— “Worked an eighteen-hour shift. Please help me out.”

“Yes, sir. I’ve got you, don’t worry.” 

“There’s my house,” he says as you tap his card then yours to exit the station. He points a shaky finger to a cozy apartment sitting next to a bakery, right outside the station. The store is still open.

You make an involuntary noise in your throat, your stomach responding to the sight of sticky pastries lined up in perfect rows. You drag him towards his apartment with quicker steps. Such delightful motivation. You’d move in with him if you could, just for this bakery.

“P-please slow down,” he asks, his first time bearing some sense of discretion towards you. 

“I’m sorry. Of course.” 

You heave him up further to support his weight with more of your body. He leans on you, unabashed as his unsteady steps take you towards his home. Under his suit, his apparent musculature bulges to fit right into your hands. 

His hands fumble for the keys once you reach the front steps. He reaches a hand out to the wall, yet you remain by his side, your hand gently clutching his waist, keeping him steady as he sways from side to side.

“This is the first time someone else has been around my house in quite some time,” he says, coherent in his melancholy. Ah, the mood swings of a drunk. 

“If you’re up to it, sir, we could share pastries at the bakery next door. It’s still open.” 

“No,” he replies, absently. “I want to fuck you.” 

Ah. Was he just reading your mind?

“Sir?”

“Unless you’d like me to feed you first,” he mutters, looking back at you as he slots the key into the lock.

You stare back at him, not quite appalled by the request, but by his gall. 

“Your boyfriend just bro” —he slurs through the word— “-ooke up with you, hm? I could take your mind off that. And feed you, if you like.” He licks his lips. “Sir.”

“You know what.” You shake off the embarrassment, again. Thrice, this man has had you embarrassed. “What size are you?”

“XL in Trojan.” 

Huh. That’s exactly what you have in your bag. 

“If you have a bed, I won’t even need any bread.”

“We’re fucking, then?”

He unlocks the door. 

“Definitely.”

—

“Relax.” His hand settles onto the middle of your back, gently guiding you onto your hands with your ass up in the air. His other hand rims your hole, casually skilled in its motions as he dips his hand palm-down and curls it to press into your prostate. You’re already loose for him, prepped by his strong fingers. Hole slick with lube. 

“You can think about him like this, yes?” he chuckles. “I’ll be thinking about you, though.”

“I’m letting you go bareback,” you stammer slightly as his fingers press into you in a wonderful arch, “Whose cock d-do you think I’ll be thinking about?”

“If it hurts, tell me. I’ll take it s-slow with you.” The skill this man has, even when drunk, makes you wonder how he might have you if he were clear-headed and sober. Your cock is already leaking onto his bed sheets.

The head of his cock taps into your hole. Inch by inch, he slips into you. The muscles in your ass stretch around him. His cock, slick with lube, comes halfway in. At the sheer stretch, your face twists. You turn away from him.

“Too much?” he asks. “Come on. Let me help you adjust so I can fuck you into my bed already.”

Fuck. Why’s he turning so mean? You’re clenching up a little over it. 

“No,” you order. “Keep going.”

You can feel him frown from behind you, but he continues. His hips draw closer to yours. His hands grip you hard. Your body nearly gives out when his cock, so much fucking thicker than any you’ve ever taken, finally brushes upward into your prostate. 

“Ngh,” you moan softly, mouth dropping open. 

“Mm, no need to be embarrassed. I’ll ha-ave you worse in a bit.”

“Stop talking like that,” you mutter, arching your back and jutting your pretty ass out. “Just give it to me.” 

You shift your weight to your knees, sliding his cock further between your cheeks until he’s inside you up to the base and you can feel the strong lines of his stomach on your ass. He grunts, throwing his head back as your hole swallows him up.

With your ass to his hips, he laughs, a drunken chuckle breaking the air. “Needy big boy.” He grinds his hips into the plush fat of your ass cheeks. The muscles in his stomach rub against you. “Your bo-oooyfriend too small for it?”

You fumble for a reply with him tucked deep inside you. You find nothing coherent. Honesty becomes your next best virtue: “Just fuck me!”

“Bratty.”

But he does fuck you. Your hole clenches around him as he pulls out, your body knowing better than you how badly you need him to fuck into you. 

“Spread your legs,” he mutters, grabbing the inside of your thigh, just above your knee, to wrap it around his waist. “I’ll fuck you good. You keep showin’ that you don’t want me to nice about this.”

You lose all sense of balance. His hips drive into you harder, but he keeps your leg in the air, wrapped firmly around his waist. At his mercy, you tip forward, ass far up enough it allows him room to thrust almost vertically into your hole.

“Keep. Your back. Arched,” he demands, his free hand settling on the small of your back. Again, he molds your body to follow his command. That’s all it takes for your mouth to open. You moan, shameless in the pleasure this drunk, nameless man is giving you. In his strong sense of control. In knowing that you can simply lie there and take it—let yourself be a sweet, tight hole for such a big man. 

“Yeah,” he says, voice ripe with pure satisfaction. “Good boy.”

“Fuck!” you cry when the blonde angles his hips to pile-drive right into the sensitive muscle of your prostate. Each press into that sensitive muscle sends strong jolts of pleasure straight from his cock, into your ass and up every one of your nerves. “Fuck, please!”

“You’re tight,” he mutters, and you try to wrap your head around the drunken garble of his words but he’s really only talking to himself,  “And I’m not sober. Don’t think I’ll last long…”

His thrusts slow, gradually, to a sensual grind. Like the thrusts of a long-time lover. You give a moan at the slow, intentional drag along your prostate, of his bare cock, veins and hardness and all, sliding rawly inside you.

He continues this pace. You spare a glance at the beautiful drunk man taking you from behind. He shivers with every push of his hips, closed eyes fluttering whenever your hole gives a good clench. His mouth has fallen open. You smell the booze on his breath. The cologne sprayed into his forearms. 

What a delicious man.

“Can’t take it, huh?” you tease, nearly drunk yourself, on his cock. “I’m too tight for you?”

He looks up at you from under blonde lashes, eyes hazy from liquor. “Do you want me to fuck a baby into you?”

You blink at the question. “Huh?”

“I—” he hiccups. “I can’t keep up that pace for long. It’ll make both of us cum quick.”

You have never had this kind of conversation during sex. Not with Suguru. Not even with men like Toji. “You mean, like earlier?”

He gives a long, pleasured sigh as he continues his measured thrusts, his head falling back once more. So easily distracted just because you’re better than anything he’s ever had. You know that for a fact. “Mmmhmmm… just like earlier.” One of his hands falls from your hip. His face relaxes into the picture of bliss.

Your own eyes flutter as his cockhead catches your prostate. You turn away from him, giving a soft gasp with your face in the pillow. His cock is so good. 

You feel the bed shift, creaking. His hands slide up your body, up past your peaked nipples and bulging pecs until he can slot a hand under your jaw to tilt your head up so that your moans erupt into open air. 

“I don’t want you to keep quiet for me,” he murmurs, his chest to your back, his mouth on your ear. You tense, and without even a single one of his fingers on you your cock gives a harsh, aching throb into the sheets.

“I—” your words break off with a loud moan as his hand wraps around your throat in full. You can feel his drunken smile on your ear. “I want that baby.”

“Don’ worry,” he chuckles. “I’ll give it to you.” 

You know he means it. And you brace yourself, hands back on the bed as his body straightens. You watch him, peering behind you from under the sweat on your brow. He pours lube into his hand. Sets the bottle on the nightstand. He smiles as he meets your eyes. 

“Back arched, pretty boy.” 

You thrust your ass into the air, back straight as a rod for him. Your eyes find the pillow once more. Minimalist embroidery lines the silk. 

His thrusts resume, and the pillow moves in your vision. You chew on your bottom lip as his thrusts overwhelm every other sensation, as his scent and the growing musk of sex shoots up your nostrils. His wet hand slips between your body and the sheets. 

His hand finds your cock. You shiver at the feel. He strokes you in slow, squeezing strokes, all in time with every press of his hips into yours.

You shudder against him, pressed tight between the sheets and his musculature on your back. “Mmnnn…” His fingers roam the head of your cock, pressing into the slit with skill. Rubbing precum all over your tip. Your balls have never felt so full.

“Call me Kento, hm?” he says. 

“Ahn… I’m (Name).” 

“Handsome name.” His pace quickens. Edged with desperation. Oh, fuck. He’s starting to throb inside you. 

His grunts break off into loud moans of your name. The pace of his hand grows. His fingers twist around your tip in mind-numbing, impossibly nimble strokes.

“Sir, Kento—please slow… down… oh!”

His hand is so fucking slick on your cock. Like creamy butter wrapping around your length. You cry out and buck wildly against him, your hips pushing him away while he pushes merciless, borderline violent thrusts into your prostate.

“Please oh god please please I can’t—I can’t—” you whine, begging for him to stop because you’re going to cum all over his sheets in under a minute since he’s started fucking you like he means it. 

He tames your hips, pushing a strong hand into the small of your back. Your spine stays arched. God he’s taking such good care of you, ensuring the perfect arch in your back so that his thrusts don’t push into a limp spine and end up injuring you.

Your body still struggles against him, the onset of an orgasm approaching too fast. “Kento, please....”

His cock gives a violent throb inside you. If you could see his face, you would see the deep furrow between his brows, the way your words have him gritting his teeth.

“You can,” he tells you. “You will. You are. I’m going to make you cum while I put my baby inside you.” 

His body envelops yours. Kento hunches over you. His thrusts lose their rhythm, and can you really blame him when he’s drunk and fucking into someone as good as you? The heat of his labored, hard breathing falls over your ear. You know he’s having a hard time trying to hold back, trying to get you there at the same time as him. 

But his thrusts only get harder. Impossibly. More brutal, more desperate than you thought possible. You fall face-first into the pillow, his own face pressed into the back of your head, buried in your hair. Through the haze of your fast-approaching orgasm you feel him murmur praise and thanks into your hair. 

“Feel so good,” he says. “(Name), you feel so good.” 

His mouth finds the back of your ear. He moans those same sweet nothings. Praising you, a good samaritan of a stranger, not for helping him home or offering to share a snack earlier, but for finally keeping your back arched for him, for being a good hole for him, for spreading your legs for him.

He tugs at your hair to remove your face from the pillow, and you know he might be a little bit angry to see you hiding your pleasure from him. With a hand on your head, fingers locked into your hair, he uses you as leverage to pound into your ass, his face still pressed up against you. You feel the weight of him closing over you. He engulfs every other sense.

You gasp in oxygen. Whining and press your ass back into his hips, begging with your body for him to get you to cum all over his sheets.

He moans from behind you. You feel his cock pulsate. Your own throbs as he squeezes it in his hand.

“Told you—” he grunts. “I don’t last long at this pace.” 

You moan with him as his cock shoots cum up your hole. You savor his sounds, cupping the back of his neck with a hand to bring him close to you, upon the crook of your neck. He shudders with his orgasm, collapsing on top of you and forcing your kness to give, your cock squished between your body and the sheets. He presses even deeper inside in this position. You feel his back arch to push in until you know every centimeter of him is throbbing inside you, working to plug you full of his cum. His hand cups your face, lovingly. His other grips your hip to bring you closer to him, so that you are hip to ass, no space in between.

“Fuck, you didn’t cum,” he mutters, even as he’s still piping you full of his cream. He pulls out and you don’t even see how he moves, the world simply spins, and then you’re on your back and for a moment his cum shoots onto your stomach, the tip of his cock twitching with his orgasm, before he’s filling you again. 

His hand finds your cock. But by then he’s already close to finishing, his eyes fluttering with the rest of his orgasm. His breathing comes out as labored moans as his cock erupts with cum inside you. Through the intense orgasm, he still manages to prop your legs over his shoulders in a swift movement and resume his thrusts at only a fraction behind the breakneck pace from earlier.

He slams into your prostate, already finished and ascending into the pain of overstimulation. You see it on his face. He squeezes at your cock and borderline abuses the sensitive, quavering tip. 

“Cum for me?” he asks with a grunt.

Your cock throbs as you cum all over his abs. Given the pace your moans are loud, desperate, the squelches of his hand squeezing your cock and your own hole wrapping tight around him a wild cacophony that emerges as a pleasant symphony to his ears.

He chuckles. “There we go.” 

When you finish, dazed eyes focused on a blurry point on the ceiling, he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Good boy.” 

Water splashes in the next room as your stranger runs a bath. When he pulled out, giving you another kiss, this time on your jawline, he had immediately rushed to the bathroom to grab you a clean towel. You’d never been pumped so full of someone else’s cum before. Even he seemed surprised.

The man, Kento, you remember moaning, approaches the bed. “May I?” 

You spread your legs. You don’t have it in you in the present moment to be independent or shy. He was the one who made the mess inside you, after all. 

He wipes the cum dribbling out your hole gently. His hand settles gently on your knee as he works. Then he flips the towel to its cleaner side to wipe your cum from your stomach. Seems like he’s cleaned your cum off of his abdomen.

He stares at your stomach for a moment, eyes fluttering in thought. Before he can wipe the fluids away, you scoop up a good amount with your fingers. You rise into a sitting position. Face moving close to his. He opens his mouth as you give him a taste of your cum with your fingers. 

You laugh deeply. “Ha. Good boy.” 

[watchingwisteria]

im so sorry i get it now i really do, the gay angels have me shaking screaming crying at all hours of the day and night, they mean everything to me i am literally thinking about them all the time and what it would mean to love someone steadily and silently through eternity, what it would mean to love across the lines of a divine war of supposed good and evil, what it would mean to carve out a space for oneself and ones lover in no man’s land, in the grey and moral ambiguity when you were created to be black and white without blemish. god i love them so much i just

[icewindandboringhorror]

Pages from trying to keep a little sketchbook-scrapbook type thing going for two weeks lol. I gave myself specific rules in hopes they might all end up more cohesive/consistent seeming, but alas, scribbly chaos reigns, it seems

[helifreds]

I just had a mind blowing realization

Ok no, it didn't happen right now but yesterday evening but this isn't the point

I was watching 'Timber' (thank you whoever randomly decided to trasmit the A-team during week) and when the famous "gay couple at morning" scene camed I realized that what I thought for one whole year was completely wrong

I was convinced that in their bedroom there were two beds, the one where Face is sleeping (or trying so) and another one on the opposite side

Turned out there's just one - pretty little - bed that they shared (the pillows' position prove it) and Murdock's imaginary bed space is occupied by a closet lol :')