#genuinely. so violent. losing my mind.

[starscreamingg]

Detroit Become Human and why does this game decide that the problem in society is individual people treating androids poorly because those androids are choking them out of the workforce and NOT the corporations and governments who deliberately designed the androids to do this

[quietwingsinthesky]

you ever just think about. “You are diseased, albeit a disease of our own making. No more.” you ever just. oh, they made him and they discarded him. it’s never going to be quiet again for him, and that’s just collateral. they let the sound rot through his whole life, his whole timeline. because that’s the kind of easy sacrifice you can make when you want to save yourself above everything else, one that doesn’t ask anything of you. you dig open a child’s mind and you bury your survival inside him and when he follows the noise back home, when he does exactly what you groomed him for, you call him ruined for it. that’s. you ever just think about that.

[rotisseries]

I JUST FINISHED REREADING LEGENDBORN AND STARTED BLOODMARKED LAST NIGHT AND COME ON HERE AND YOU'RE ALSO READING IT 😨😨 WE SYNCED

CLOWN TO CLOWN COMMUNICATION. OUR UNBREAKABLE BOND

[jackalhadrurusluvr]

how to cry for help without crying for help

[mosspapi]

I wanna draw but the amt of effort it takes to re-setup my computer at this shitty ass painful desk is not worth the like. 10 minutes I'll b able to sit up afterwards before having to do it all again in reverse to set it back up by the couch

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Keep Your Eyes on Me - pt.ii

tara carpenter x female reader

part i | part ii

summary: Tara begins to question her own emotions, especially when the thought of losing Y/n's attention unexpectedly stirs something deeper.

word count: 5.3k

warnings: slight violence

————

"Is Y/n dying?" Mindy asks with genuine curiosity looking back at you and Tara. "What the fuck is wrong with her face?"

The five of you had just gotten off the subway and exited the station, but your mind was still stuck a few moments behind. Tara had wrapped her arm around yours and spoken the five words that made your heart skip a beat: Keep your eyes on me.

Since then, you hadn’t been able to function. Stiff as a board, your brain was in a daze, replaying those words over and over. Now, you were walking aimlessly, arm-in-arm with Tara, trailing behind Mindy, Chad, and Sam, who were a good distance ahead.

"I think it might have something to do with Tara," Chad chimes in, glancing back at you both.

That comment got Sam's attention and she finally turned to see what was happening. "Yikes she does look—hold on why would Tara be responsible for whatever is going on with Y/n's face?" She asks with a raised brow, looking at the twins genuinely confused.

"Look at her arm," Chad says, pointing at Tara. "It’s wrapped around Y/n’s."

"She's looking up at her like Y/n put the stars in the sky," Mindy laughs.

Sam squints her eyes still confused. "So? Tara's finally warming up to Y/n. I spoke to her a few weeks ago about how Y/n is good for her."

"Her arm is around Y/n's," Chad states again with more emphasis.

"I hold my friends by their arm all the time," Sam shrugs like it's no big deal.

"Oh honey... did you say friends?" Mindy says gently wrapping her arm around Sam's shoulders like she was trying to soften the blow. "You know Y/n has the hots for your sister right?"

Sam wasn't stupid. There was instances in the last six months where the thought had crossed her mind. The way you always glanced at Tara after one of Mindy’s outrageous jokes, just to see her reaction. The way you went silent every time Tara got too close. The way your cheeks flushed crimson whenever Tara did something particularly sweet or kind.

Sam sighs. Deep down, she knew. The way you were attentive to Tara wasn’t just friendly—it was something more.

When she’d encouraged Tara to give you a chance, it wasn’t about dating—it was about letting someone in, letting someone care for her. But now, watching you and Tara in this new light, the possibility of her little sister entering her first relationship suddenly felt real.

That’s what unnerved her. Not you, specifically. She liked you. And if anyone was going to date Tara, she was glad it would be you.

"Don’t worry, Sam," Chad says, trying to reassure her. "Y/n’s a total dork. She can’t even admit to herself that she likes Tara. She just genuinely cares about her, even if she only gets to do that as a friend."

"Dude," Mindy cuts in, laughing so hard she’s clutching her stomach, "you literally helped Y/n get into your sister’s pants!"

“You gave Y/n first class tickets to take your sister to Pound town!” she adds in between laughs.

Chad groans, dragging a hand down his face. "Why are you like this?"

Sam felt her blood run cold. She changed her mind—maybe she did have a problem with you.

————

Meanwhile, about twenty steps behind the group, the younger Carpenter sister was freaking out for a completely different reason.

Sure, she hadn’t expected to enjoy the feeling of her hand resting on your bicep this much. That was its own problem. But what was really throwing her off was the deafening silence. Why weren’t you saying anything?

She’d called your name a few times now, but you hadn’t so much as blinked in response. She considered taking her arm away. Maybe she’d overstepped. It had been a bold move—not just saying what she did but closing the space between you two like this.

It was a stark contrast from what's the usual between you two—her throwing violent insults your way, half the time just to see how you’d react.

Okay maybe it makes sense why you weren't responding. Still, was it too much to ask for a little reaction?

Fearing she’d made you uncomfortable, Tara began to pull her arm away.

"No! Wait—" you blurt out, snapping out of your daze at the loss of contact. The words hang in the air, and the realization of what you just said slaps you in the face. Your face flushes red. "I mean—wait, not no! You can keep your hands to yourself if you want!" you stammer, awkwardly backpedaling as you take a step closer to the road to create a distance between you two.

She just told you that you can keep your eyes on her and you told her she can keep her hands to herself.

In that moment, you’d honestly prefer to be hit by a car than embarrass yourself any further in front of Tara.

You brace yourself, expecting her to roll her eyes, to call you an imbecile, to tell you to get over yourself. Maybe she’d point out that she doesn’t need you to give her permission to keep her hands to herself—that she has full autonomy. Or worse, she’d say something cutting, like how she’d never touch you in a million years, even though she was the one who had grabbed your arm in the first place.

But instead, she laughs.

And it’s not a mean laugh. It’s soft, warm, and unexpectedly genuine, catching you completely off guard.

Not that you were complaining, but

What the fuck is she doing?

————

"What the fuck am I doing?" Tara mumbles to herself.

“That’s what I want to know,” Mindy fires back with a teasing smirk, leaning closer to Tara who was seated across her on the table.

Fortunately for you, soon after you heard the melodic sound of Tara’s laugh that made your brain short-circuit, the bar you were all heading to came into view giving you the perfect excuse not to dwell on it—or, more accurately, to avoid melting into a puddle of feelings. For the first time ever, Tara had laughed because of something you did, and the thought alone made your heart do a happy little somersault.

Upon entering the dive bar, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom while the rest of the group found a table to be seated at. Thankfully, the bathroom was empty, so you were able to think out loud.

“What even is my life right now?” you muttered to yourself as you leaned over the sink with a goofy smile. Catching your reflection in the mirror, your face was beet fucking red. Oh no. Did Tara notice how red you were? You groaned, covering your face with your hands.

How did things change so fast? How had it gone from her hating your guts, calling you Ghostface at every opportunity, and throwing insults your way—barely even sparing you a glance—to this?

Mindy had told you to stop chasing Tara, to ignore her, to let her come to you. You’d managed to stick to that advice for maybe an hour, and somehow, this was where it got you.

Not that you were complaining—oh, you definitely weren’t—but wow, this was a lot to handle. Your heart felt like it might burst from how warm and fluttery it was. Tara was kind of adorable… and terrifying. Mostly adorable. Okay, maybe all adorable.

"Fuck, this girl is going to be the death of me."

————

Outside, Mindy, Chad, and Tara stayed at the table while Sam headed to the bar to scope out the scene.

"Sooo… did I just see you holding Y/n’s arm?" Mindy asked, probing Tara for more answers.

Tara groaned dramatically before dropping her head onto the table with a quiet thud. "Yes," she mumbled, her voice muffled against the surface.

"What the hell happened in the two weeks we didn't hang?" Chad questions. "You couldn't stand her last time we hung out. And you're pulling the Carpenter rizz?"

"I don’t know!" Tara whined, her words still muffled by the table." Sam talked to me okay? And I guess I was being harsh to Y/n."

"Uh-huh, sure," Mindy replied, her grin widening. "But that still doesn’t explain why you were holding her arm. That’s a huge leap from ‘I hate Y/n, she’s totally Ghostface,’ to... this." Mindy explained, clearly enjoying the situation.

"Unless," Chad cut in, his grin matching Mindy’s as he wiggled his eyebrows, "there was always some hidden feelings under your 'supposed' hatred for her..."

Tara’s face shot up from the table, bright red as she glared at them. "There are no hidden feelings!"

Mindy gasped, clutching her chest like she’d uncovered a scandal. "Oh my God, there totally is! Admit it, Tara—you’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time!"

"Absolutely not!" Tara protested, her voice climbing an octave.

"You have," Chad teased, leaning closer with a conspiratorial whisper. "And you loved it."

Tara groaned again, hiding her face in her hands, as Mindy and Chad erupted into laughter.

"Shut up!" Tara muttered, but the small smile tugging at the corners of her lips betrayed her completely. She sighed, trying to compose herself. "I don't like her like that, okay? She was just ignoring me today, and... I guess it sucked not having her care about me like she usually does," she mumbled, hoping the explanation would get the twins off her back.

"Yeah, that makes sense," Mindy replied casually to Tara’s surprise. Well, that was easy.

But then Mindy smirked, leaning back in her chair. "So, it shouldn’t bother you that Y/n’s getting hit on at the bar right now, huh?"

Tara froze. "What?" she snapped, whipping her head around so fast it was a miracle she didn’t pull something. Her eyes darted frantically toward the bar. "Where is she?"

The brunette turned back around so Mindy could answer her, and that’s when she realized—she’d walked right into her trap.

Mindy burst into laughter, slapping the table. "Oh my God, you’re so obvious!"

Tara frowned and crossed her arms as Chad joined in on the laughter, both of them clearly enjoying how flustered she’d become.

————

You finally leave the bathroom once you feel like you can function like a normal human being again. It doesn’t take long to spot your friends at their table—sometimes, you swear you have a built-in Tara radar, always able to sense exactly where she is.

As you make your way over, your eyes are drawn to her, bathed in the soft red glow of the bar lights. She looks stunning, her features highlighted by the warm hue. She’s speaking animatedly to the twins, her hands flying up to cover her face in between bursts of conversation, a mix of shyness and excitement that makes her even more captivating.

Sometimes you wish you weren't the awkward human you were, and met Tara in better circumstances. A world where Ghostface didn't exist as well. Maybe then—maybe then you two could be something?

Your heart leapt at the thought. And you felt almost guilty for thinking the way you do. You never wanted it to seem like you only treated Tara with kindness because you had some sort of ulterior motive. It made you feel guilty. But it was getting difficult denying it any further. Maybe it was seeing her in this setting, so relaxed, so beautiful—maybe it was her touch and words earlier that sealed your fate.

But all you wanted right now was to slide into that booth beside her, feel her hand on your arm again, and be the person she could lean on.

You really liked Tara.

And you also really needed a drink.

————

"Okay, hold on—help me out here," Mindy says, holding her hands up. "If you do have some kind of interest in her, then why, and I say this with love, were you such a massive dick to her?"

Tara groans, letting her head drop back dramatically against the booth. "I wasn’t trying to be! It just... happened," she mumbles, rubbing her hands over her face, as if she could wipe away the embarrassment. "I don’t know, okay? She just gets under my skin. She’s so infuriatingly... nice. And smug. And—"

"Hot?" Chad offers with a teasing grin, earning a glare from Tara.

"I wasn’t going to say that!" Tara snaps defensively, though the red creeping up her neck betrays her.

Mindy snorts. "Oh, sure. That’s why you grabbed her arm like she was the last person on Earth. Real subtle Carpenter."

Tara exhales hard, crossing her arms and slouching down in her seat. "I didn’t plan that, okay? She was ignoring me. I didn’t like it. And I panicked."

Chad raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair with that smug big-brother energy. "Sooo, you panicked and held her arm? You panic-flirted?"

"I did not panic-flirt!" Tara protests, sitting up straighter, her voice pitching higher with frustration.

"You so panic-flirted," Mindy grins, leaning closer. "Face it, T. You’ve got it bad. I mean, you did just admit you didn’t like her ignoring you. That’s classic 'please-pay-attention-to-me' behavior."

Tara opens her mouth to argue, but freezes. She can’t deny that part—because it’s true. Too true. She didn’t like the way you’d suddenly stopped caring, stopped looking her way like you always did. It left her feeling... off-balance.

"Fine," she mutters, looking away as her fingers trace patterns on the table. "Maybe I didn’t hate it when she cared."

Chad and Mindy exchange a glance before turning back to her with matching smirks.

"Uh-huh," Mindy drawls. "And maybe you didn’t hate holding her arm."

Tara groans again, sinking lower into the booth like she could disappear into the cushions. "I really need you both to shut up right now."

"Why am I getting interrogated? And more importantly, where are the drinks? Sam? Y/n?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

————

You weave your way through the crowd, finally making it to the bar, where you flag down the bartender and order a drink—something strong to calm the storm brewing inside of you. Taking a seat, you take a deep breath, letting the hum of the bar settle around you.

"Another round," a familiar voice says beside you, and you turn your head to find Sam, casually gesturing for the bartender to line up several drinks. You blink, surprised.

"Sam?" you ask, brow furrowing. "What are you doing?"

Sam doesn’t look at you as she responds, eyes focused ahead, her tone completely serious. “Mourning.”

You stare at her, processing. “Mourning?” you repeat, confused. “Who… who died?”

Sam finally turns to you, expression deadpan. “My baby sister.”

You freeze, mouth opening slightly as your brain short-circuits. “Tara? Tara died?” you ask, voice rising in disbelief as you whip your head toward the booth where Tara is very clearly alive and animated, still talking to the twins.

Sam sighs dramatically, shaking her head. “Not literally. Spiritually. She’s about to get into her first relationship.”

Your face contorts into the human equivalent of the surprised Pikachu meme. “Her what now?”

Sam gives you a look, like you should already know. “Oh, don’t play dumb. You’re the relationship.”

You nearly choke on your drink, sputtering. “Me?!”

“Yes, you,” Sam replies matter-of-factly, grabbing one of the drinks the bartender sets down but not leaving just yet. She leans against the bar, eyeing you like she’s assessing your soul. “And don’t make that face. You’re the one she’s been all smiley and weird about lately.”

You blink at her, utterly lost. “Smile-y? Weird? What—Tara doesn’t even like me like that.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really,” you insist, though your voice wavers slightly.

Sam just smirks, sipping one of the drinks slowly. “You’re even worse at lying than you are at hiding how red your face is right now.”

Your hand flies to your cheek like you can stop the blush burning there. “It’s the bar lights!” you blurt defensively. “They’re red. They make everything red.”

"But I'm not lying I swear! She hates me remember? I'm supposedly Ghostface?" You ramble, trying to jog Sam's memory, because what in the world is she talking about. Tara likes you?

Sam chuckles under her breath, shaking her head. “You’re a mess.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, sinking further into yourself before glancing up at her. “But seriously… what do you mean me? I thought you were mourning because of some jerk she’s into—”

“Oh, I still think you’re a jerk,” Sam interrupts, though there’s a teasing glint in her eye now. “But you’re a tolerable one.”

You blink again, confused. “I’m… tolerable?”

“For now,” Sam confirms, narrowing her eyes at you in a way that makes you feel like you’re back in high school, being questioned by a teacher. “But listen to me, Y/n—I don’t care how flustered you get or how much you like her, I’m watching you. If you so much as make her frown, I’ll know. You’ll regret it.”

The seriousness of her tone makes you sit up a little straighter, but there’s still something soft in the way she says it—like, beneath the overprotective big-sister act, Sam really does care.

“I wouldn’t do that,” you say quietly, surprising even yourself with how genuine you sound. “I’d never hurt her. Ever.”

Sam studies you for a long moment, like she’s trying to read the truth straight from your eyes. Finally, she gives a small nod, satisfied. “Good. Because she deserves someone who looks at her like she’s the best thing to ever happen to them.”

Your heart stutters at her words, and you look down at your drink, trying not to smile too obviously. “I already do,” you admit softly, almost to yourself.

Sam pauses, her expression softening ever so slightly. “Yeah. That’s what worries me,” she mutters, more to herself than to you, but before you can ask what she means, she straightens up. “Now come on. I’m not carrying all these drinks by myself.”

You blink up at her, still a little dazed by the conversation, but you quickly grab a couple of glasses and stand up to follow Sam back toward the table.

But as you rose, the sudden sound of shattering glass and the murmur of rising voices pull your attention toward the commotion. A crowd begins to form in the center of the bar, the tension thickening with every heated word exchanged. It’s only when the circle shifts slightly that you spot her—Tara, her small frame squared off against a guy who looks a little too angry for the situation, and a girl glaring daggers at her.

You and Sam exchange a glance before rushing over, the protective instinct in both of you kicking in instantly.

“Look, I said I’d buy you another drink,” Tara says, her tone calm but laced with frustration.

“Yeah, well, maybe watch where you’re going next time dumbass,” the guy snaps, his voice dripping with condescension.

“Okay then maybe don’t stand in the middle of the fucking bar like a human traffic cone,” Tara bites back, her words sharper than you’ve ever heard from her.

The guy’s girlfriend steps in, practically seething. “Who do you think you are? Bumping into him like a slut and then acting like it’s his fault? God, you’re so full of yourself!”

Tara rolls her eyes. “Trust me, I do not want your man. This isn’t that deep.”

The guy snickers, leaning closer to Tara. “Yeah, right. With that attitude? You’d be lucky if anyone wanted you.”

You feel your chest tighten with anger, but you force yourself to take a deep breath. You step forward, hands up in a gesture of peace, trying your best not to escalate things.

“Hey, let’s all just calm down,” you say, your voice cracking slightly under the pressure. “I’ll get you a drink, okay? On me. No big deal.”

The guy turns to you, sizing you up before sneering. “Who the hell are you? Her little lapdog?”

That stings more than you’d care to admit, but before you can respond, he takes a step closer to Tara, clearly trying to intimidate her. Tara doesn’t back down, her glare unwavering, but his shoulder roughly “brushes” against hers in what’s definitely not an accident.

The nudge sends Tara stumbling backward, but thankfully, she lands against Sam, who steadies her instantly.

And that’s when all hell breaks loose.

Something snaps inside you, and before you can think it through, your fist is already flying. It connects with the guy’s jaw, sending him reeling back a step. The bar erupts in gasps and shouts as the guy recovers, glaring at you with fire in his eyes.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he growls, lunging at you.

Chaos ensues. Tables scrape against the floor as people back away, forming a wide circle. You’re barely aware of Sam pulling Tara further back, her voice sharp as she tells her to stay put.

The guy swings at you, but you dodge, adrenaline coursing through your veins. “I was trying to be nice!” you shout, your voice somehow still awkward despite the situation. “But nooo, you had to go and—”

His next punch grazes your shoulder, and you retaliate, landing another hit square in his side.

“Y/n!” Tara’s voice cuts through the noise, and for a split second, you falter, glancing in her direction.

That’s all the guy needs to get a cheap shot in, his fist connecting with your stomach. You stumble back, the wind knocked out of you, but you manage to stay on your feet steadying yourself by having your palm planted on a nearby table.

Unfortunately luck wasn't on your side, and the table had a broken bottle on it, the jagged glass slices into your palm. You wince, but thankfully, the chaos around you masks the pain, and no one notices it.

Suddenly, Chad steps in between you and the guy, his broad frame blocking any further blows. “Alright, enough,” he says, his voice firm, but not without a hint of warning. “You don’t want to take this any further bro. Trust me.”

Before the guy can respond, Sam steps in too, her hand flashing a taser from her waistband, her expression icy cold. “I suggest you walk away,” she says, her voice steady and threatening. “Unless you want to leave here with more than just a bruised ego.”

The guy hesitates, clearly debating whether to push his luck. But the bartender steps in then, a burly man who looks like he’s seen his fair share of bar fights. “Alright, that’s enough!” he barks. “You—out. Now.”

The guy glares at you one last time before grabbing his girlfriend’s arm and storming out, muttering curses under his breath.

As the crowd disperses and the bar settles back into its usual hum of activity, you turn to Tara, who’s staring at you with wide eyes.

“You okay?” you ask, your voice hoarse.

She nods, her gaze softening as she takes a step closer to you. “Are you?”

You wince, clutching your stomach. “I’ll live. But, uh, maybe next time, don’t antagonize the guy holding the drink?”

Tara scoffs but smiles faintly. “Maybe next time, don’t throw punches for me.”

Sam snorts, crossing her arms. “No, by all means, keep throwing punches. Just learn to dodge better.”

You laugh weakly, glancing between the two Carpenter sisters. “Noted. So… anyone else need a drink, or is it just me?”

Tara shakes her head, her smile growing, her face red. “It’s just you. But… thanks. For standing up for me.”

Your heart skips a beat at her words, and despite the ache in your hand, you can’t help but smile back. “Anytime.”

You catch Tara glancing at you, her expression softer then ever, and for a moment, she seems to be looking at you like she’s seeing something more than the awkward dork you think you are.

And in that instant, she can’t help but think you're even more amazing than she already knew. But before she can fully process it, Chad suddenly approaches, glancing at your hand, his face faltering in concern.

“Hey, are you good?” he asks, his eyes scanning your hand. “You look like you're in pain.”

You wince, still trying to play it off as no big deal. But Chad catches sight of the blood trickling from the glass cut on your palm, and his eyes widen. "Holy shit, dude, we need to take you to a hospital."

You shake your head quickly, your voice still a little shaky. “It’s just a scratch, really. I’ll be fine.”

But Tara, her brows furrowing in concern, steps forward, and glances at your hand and gasps. “That’s not just a scratch,” she insists, her voice filled with worry. “You’re bleeding bad. Get up—Mindy call an Uber.”

You open your mouth to protest again, "No hospital, I'm fine I just need a first aid kit." Sam steps in with a calm, no-nonsense tone. “On it, I'll ask the bartender.”

Tara, who’s been silently observing the whole time, takes charge. Her voice is soft but firm as she grabs the first-aid kit from Sam’s hands once she rejoins the group. “I’ll do it,” she says, her gaze never leaving yours. “You’ve done enough tonight. Let me take care of you.”

Mindy, who’s been watching the exchange with a smirk, suddenly chimes in, a teasing edge to her voice. “Look at you, Y/n. Who knew you had this much of a protective streak? Tara’s got you all worried, huh?”

You feel your face flush, but before you can respond, Tara shakes her head at Mindy’s comment, her worry deepening. “She’s hurt, Mindy. It’s not funny.” Her voice softens as she turns back to you, “You’re really gonna be okay, right? I— I don’t want you to be hurt.”

You can see how much she cares, and it makes your chest tighten with emotions. Tara’s usually so tough, so guarded, but right now she’s nothing but concerned.

You try to reassure her, even though the tenderness in her gaze makes it hard to keep your cool. “I’m fine, really. You don’t have to worry so much.”

But Tara doesn’t seem convinced, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I can’t help it,” she admits softly, her voice almost a whisper. "I care."

The weight of her words lingers in the air, and for a moment, everything feels a little clearer between you two. Tara doesn’t just care for your safety—she cares about you.

She gently guides you to an empty booth, pulling you away from the noise and chaos of the bar. It’s just the two of you now, in your own little corner of the world. You slide into one side of the booth while she settles on the other, a table separating you, but it somehow feels closer than ever.

The silence stretches between you both, and for a moment, neither of you says anything. You hold your hand out toward her, palm facing up, your fingers trembling slightly from the sting. Tara’s gaze softens when she sees the injury, and with a quiet sigh, she reaches for the first-aid kit.

Her movements are slow, deliberate, as she opens the kit, pulling out antiseptic and gauze. You watch her, your heart pounding for reasons you can’t quite explain. She carefully dabs the cotton swab in the antiseptic, then presses it gently to the cut. You wince, a sharp sting jolting through your palm.

“Sorry,” Tara murmurs, her voice low and soothing. She frowns, her brows knitting together in concentration as she takes more care, dabbing at the wound more carefully this time. “I’m trying to be gentle. You’re not a fan of this whole ‘injured’ thing, huh?”

You chuckle softly, still feeling the burn of the antiseptic. “Nope. Not my favorite thing," your voice coming out a little more awkward than you intended.

"I can't believe a dork like you got in a fight."

You let out a small laugh, trying to hide the fact that her words have made your heart race. “I’m not a dork,” you protest weakly.

Tara raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eye. “Really? Because I could’ve sworn you were about to pass out the second I touched your hand.”

You blush even harder. Tara’s smile is warm, genuine, and it makes the sting of the antiseptic a little easier to bear.

“It’s not the touch,” you mumble, “it’s just... you’re too close.”

She laughs softly, a sound that makes your heart flutter. “Yeah? Guess I’ll just have to keep getting closer, then.”

Her words, teasing as they are, send a warmth rushing through you. You try to play it cool, but inside, you’re an absolute mess. The way she cares for you, even in such a simple moment, makes everything feel... different. It’s like a tiny shift in the air, making you want to stay in this little bubble of quiet with her forever.

Tara looks up at you, the gears turning in her head. Was she being unfair right now? Giving you mixed signals.

She continues cleaning the wound, but now with even more care. She choses her next words carefully not wanting to sour the mood, “I'm really sorry for how I treated you. I think with everything that happened last year, I was scared to let new people in, and so I was wary of you even though you’ve been nothing but amazing to me. I guess I just had my guard up and it was unfair and—"

"I know Tara, I forgive you don't worry," you smile at her. And its pure and genuine, and Tara knows that you mean that whole heartedly.

As Tara finishes bandaging the cut on your palm, she gently flips your hand over to check for any other injuries. Her fingers graze across the back of your hand, and she notices the bruised knuckles. For a split second, she pauses, her breath catching in her throat.

Her eyes linger on your hand—on the faded bruise, evidence of the fight you’d just gotten into—and for some reason, she can’t help but think it’s... hot. The way your hand looks, bruised but still strong, it makes something in her chest tighten. You got into a fight for her.

She quickly shakes her head, trying to push the thought away, but it lingers. What the hell is wrong with me? she thinks, her face flushing slightly. Tara quickly looks up at you, trying to mask her sudden embarrassment with a forced nonchalance. But you're just sat there beaming at her, telling her its okay for how she treated you in the past, that you forgive her.

Suddenly, Tara couldn’t just take it anymore. The way you were looking at her, so soft, so genuine, made her heart flutter in a way she couldn’t ignore. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and then, without warning, she leaned forward, her eyes locking with yours.

“You know,” she started, her voice low and teasing, “Mindy said you were incapable of acting first.”

You blinked, confusion flashing across your face. “What?” you asked, not sure where she was going with this.

Tara smirked, clearly amused. “And that if I wanted something to happen, I’d have to be the initiator.”

You furrowed your brow, still not understanding. “What are you talking about?”

Tara’s smile widened, and she leaned in a little closer, her voice dropping even lower. “I find that hard to believe, given how you just got in a fight for me. I know there’s a little boldness in you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, and before you could even process what she was saying, she added, “But I guess so do I.”

Without warning, Tara reached across the table, her hand grabbing the front of your shirt. You froze, your breath catching as she pulled you closer, her face just inches from yours. Your heart raced as she leaned in, and then—before you could even think—her lips were on yours.

It was soft, tentative at first, like she was testing the waters. But then it deepened, and everything around you seemed to fade away. The kiss was warm, gentle, but there was an undeniable intensity to it, as if she was pouring everything she felt into that moment. Your uninjured hand instinctively reached for hers, feeling the pulse of her heartbeat against your fingertips.

When the kiss finally broke, both of you pulled away, breathless. Tara’s eyes were wide, a soft blush coloring her cheeks as she looked at you, her lips still tingling from the kiss.

You blinked, your mind racing, and then you couldn’t help but grin, a nervous laugh escaping you. “Damn... I should’ve gotten into a fight a lot sooner.”

Tara rolled her eyes, but her smile was all warmth, and you could see in her eyes that there was something deeper. Something unspoken, but undeniable.

Something that was always there.

Taglist: @cobaltperun @machyishere @freakshow2501 @nwestra @mcchicken88 @101rizzlrr @snowdrop1026 @ilovesneezing069 @btay3115 @burntoutghost

[ghosts-bandwagon]

141 + los vaqueros + könig with an s/o who is kind of naive and innocent being called dumb?? Just how they would react and comfort their s/o <33 thank you lovely!!!!

I love big strong men standing up for their sweet little s/o 😭

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

You gotta have some kinda death wish

I can’t imagine him getting violent off whip, his main concern would be removing you from the situation and providing comfort

However, that doesn’t mean that he hasn’t memorized who that person is, their face, their voice, their tone, their words

And that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t track them down later and give them a piece of his mind

Before he does that, his concern is you, he’s got your favorite show playing and he’s telling you it’s not worth thinking about what they said, he wishes he can take his own advice but when you’re curled up against his chest sniffling with a quivering lip, he’s imagining how satisfying it would be to run his fist through their face

Once you’ve fallen asleep, he’s tracking them down and when he finds them, in seconds he’s gripping the front of their shirt, lifting them slightly, their back bruising against the wall he’s pushing them against

“If I ever hear your voice again, I’ll crush your fuckin’ throat, am I clear?”

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

He loves your sweet, good natured spirit, it gives him such genuine joy

He’s the only one that can poke fun at you because he’s not being malicious about it, it comes from a place of love and endearment

So when he sees a recruit making fun of you for it, he kinda loses it a little bit

Just like Ghost, his main concern is removing you from that situation but at the same time he’s pissed

So he’s wedging himself between you two with a strong emphasis on the person bringing you down, his chest is all puffed up, shoulders square, and he’s got the angriest look in his eyes

“Care to repeat what you said?”

He might not be as scary or intimidating as Ghost but that doesn’t mean that his strength is just for show either

The recruit backs away almost immediately but doesn’t get very far before Johnny grabs him by the collar of his shirt and pulls him back

“The next time I catch you even looking at them, you’ll be so fucking sorry.” The poison in his words thickening his accent in his throat and the poor idiot was tripping over his feet trying to get away

In seconds, Johnny turned to face you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pressed his lips to your forehead

“C’mon darlin, let’s get somethin’ sweet for my sweet somethin’.” He teased with a wink and a bump of his hips against yours

John Price:

He loves your innocence honestly, it’s so refreshing for him

Like the first drink of ice water after spending a day in the desert heat, it soothes him as much as it concerns him

He teases you about it both out of love and genuine concern, he’s not always around and it worries him how innocent and kind you are

And then while you’re all out getting drinks and wrapping up a hard day’s work, he sees you getting picked on, he sees your shoulders slump ever so slightly and he crossed the room in seconds

Honestly? He doesn’t even have to say anything, his body language, his demeanor, the vicious look in his eyes, all speak volumes to how bad this guy fucked up

He stood behind you, a hand on your shoulder and whispering loving words in your ear, you’re a little confused as you walk back to the group, looking over your shoulder, not thinking to look in front of you (luckily Johnny gets hold of you before you walk into someone)

You can’t hear what he’s saying but you get the sense it’s pretty bad considering the guy loses all color in his face and sweat starts to bead on his brow

You wave at John with a smile as he walks back to you, he gathers you in his arms and pulls you in for a kiss

An offer of home and comfort shortly followed

How could you possibly refuse?

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

Oh honey he’s poking fun at you very often, but always out of love, he loves your naivety and will often use it to tease you

He loves seeing you get all worked up, cheeks puffed up and an embarrassed blush on your cheeks when he calls you out on it, it warms his heart as much as it makes him wanna give you big ol’ smooch

However

He’s the only one allowed to do it

So when he sees one of the cadets try to pull one over you the way he does, but in a much meaner fashion that has embarrassed tears welling in your eyes, he sees red

He’s at your side in a matter of seconds, chest pushing against the other guy as he backs him away from you, he’s so angry he doesn’t know what to say, barely manages to put a filter on his words

“Think you’re so fuckin’ funny do ya? Makin’ ‘em upset, who the fuck do ya think you are?”

John has to step in and get between the two men, knowing full well how it’ll end, he physically turns Kyle around to face you and gives him a shove in your direction

Kyle takes your hand and walks away, grumbling all the while about how he should’ve punched the fuckers lights out, but when you lean into his side as you’re walking along, the anger starts to simmer and fade

It won’t be long before he’s mumbling an apology to you for how he reacted, just give him a kiss and he’ll be back to his normal self

König:

I mean… you gotta be some kinda stupid to mess with his s/o in any capacity, like have you seen him???

He’s never far from you, always in your peripheral or at your side, touching you in some way, it’s soothing for him to be around you and he knows you feel the same

So when he hears someone snap at you and call you dumb, he bites his cheek so hard he tasted blood

Without hesitation he pulled you away and behind him as he stood up at full height, glaring daggers at the man through the holes of his hood

He doesn’t even have to say anything, the angry rise and fall of his chest, the cold fury in his eyes, the way his fists clench and unclench at his sides are all indicators enough of his rage

The man couldn’t apologize and scramble away quick enough, tripping over a chair as he tried to make a hasty escape

König was frozen in place, so god damn angry that he couldn’t move, it took your small voice quietly calling his name for him to snap out of it, he turned to face you and gently took your hand in his, his thumb stroking over your knuckles

You smiled softly at him, even if he wasn’t looking directly at you, his eyes pinned to your hand in his, you gave it a gentle squeeze and he finally looked up at you

The adoration in your eyes enough to melt the fury and bring him back to himself, “Let’s go, schatz, you said you were hungry, yes?”

“A while ago, yeah.”

“Then let’s go remedy that.”

Alejandro Vargas:

Alejandro loves with his entire being, he’s so steadfast in his love that any slight against you, is a slight against him

“What the fuck did you say cabron?”

He’s up in arms almost immediately, hackles raised, nostrils flaring, fists clenched at his side and ready to swing

“Alejo, please, it’s fine.” He knew it wasn’t fine, he knew you wanted to put in a brave face but he didn’t miss the way your eyes watered or the way your jaw tensed when the insult was hurled at you

“No, amor, let him repeat himself. See if he’s man enough to say it again.”

He’s seeing red at this point, his heart is hammering in his chest and he’s ready to knock out the bastard

When he sees that the man is wide eyed, panicked, and stuttering out apologies, trying to gain some semblance of spine as he tries to make a hasty retreat, he backs off and moves closer to you

“Más le vale, cabron.” (Loose translation: that’s what I thought)

He’s got his arm around you and he’s walking you both away from scene,

“You didn’t have to do that, Ale.”

“What are you talking about, amor, of course I did. If you’re wounded, then so am I.”

“You’re so cheesy.” You teased with a small peck to his jaw, he chuckled and rested his head on yours as you both made your way home

Rodolfo Parra:

He’s too good for this world tbh he doesn’t give that idiot a second glance as he’s walking you away from him

He’s kissing your temple and shooting a glare over his shoulder, a promise of retribution in his eyes

“Don’t listen to them, mi vida.”

He’s nothing if not reassuring and comforting, he’s holding your hand and lovingly stroking it with his thumb

As he’s giving you a hug and kissing the top of your head, he’s thinking of all the ways he can wring the new recruit’s neck tomorrow

But that won’t stop him from spoiling you a little bit to cheer you up

Even if you’re insisting that you’re well over it and have moved past it, he’s just as insistent in getting your favorite food, watching your favorite movies

[musaslullaby]

The night has only just begun

Max Verstappen x fem reader

Summary: Max becomes jealous when he sees you talking to another man.

Warning: NSFW, +18, you are responsible for what you read.

Masterlist

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I've always loved being around people. Parties, interviews, or simply going out to dinner were a way to clear my head from eternal melancholy.

The limousine sped through the empty streets of Monaco. The only lights visible through the tinted windows were those of the beautiful stars, shining independently in the sky. They’ve always inspired a sense of trust in me, and now, after years of hard work, I can happily consider myself one of them.

"Schatje, are you ready?" Max asked, placing his hand on my leg, covered by the expensive blue dress that sparkled under the moonlight.

"I'm always ready. Perhaps I should ask you if you are." My mischievous smile caused an adorable chuckle from Max, who gently stroked me before stepping out of the car. Like a true gentleman, he opened the door for me, and only at that moment did my eyes wander over his entire body, perfectly framed by a black tuxedo as dark as the night, which highlighted his light blue eyes.

He extended his hand toward me with an elegant gesture while a brilliant, sincere smile adorned his features. His expression was relaxed, genuinely happy, and it made me smile involuntarily. I loved seeing him so at ease, especially because it was rare—during races, he often showed his worst side.

I gently placed my hand in his, which was larger than mine. It felt reassuring as we walked down that red carpet; his presence was warm and calm, in stark contrast to the continuous flashes of the journalists' cameras blinding us. Even the sky seemed to hide its beloved stars from those equally bright machines.

When we entered the venue, the lights were dim, a soft murmur lingered in the background, and waiters constantly passed by with glasses of sparkling wine. Occasionally, you could notice a dark wooden table surrounded by Ferrari-red couches.

My eyes darted around, scanning every person, and they casually caught sight of blonde hair. In an instant, I left Max's side, diving into that ocean of important people, dressed like kings and queens. When I got close enough, I recognized that boy. I knew my eyes weren’t deceiving me. "If I’m not mistaken, this is the scent of…" I said, stopping, resting my hand on my chin as I pretended to think. "Ah yes, it’s the new Giorgio Armani fragrance?"

The boy turned to me with wide eyes. "I can’t believe it, Y/N, how long has it been!"

"Too long!" I whispered, laughing, as we hugged, fearing we’d lose each other again.

"So, how’s it going?" he asked, his bright smile so contagious that I felt a facial paralysis coming on.

"Everything’s fine, thanks," I replied kindly, my voice slightly sweetened.

I had no idea how much time had passed since we started talking, but the only thing I knew was that he hadn’t changed: he was still the same goofy boy as always, and in some ways, that was reassuring. As caught up as we were in the conversation, I completely ignored the phone going crazy with calls and messages. By then, my handbag was vibrating every three seconds.

A laugh erupted from the back of my throat; I loved his humor and jokes, but I didn’t even have time to reply before I felt a deadly grip on my wrist, being yanked from the conversation without realizing it.

"That's enough," Max whispered through clenched teeth, his jaw tight.

"Stop it!" I yelled, trying to resist, drawing the attention of those around us, who suddenly stopped talking. Couldn’t they mind their own business?

"Will you explain what’s wrong with you?" I asked, stumbling as he let go, shoving me violently against the bathroom wall.

"What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me?" His anger was evident; I could see it in his eyes, but beyond that, I saw something else… sadness? Melancholy? No, that wasn’t it. Something deeper, perhaps?

"I’m not the one who was eyeing another man," he continued, almost shouting, his voice filled with frustration and repressed feelings.

"What are you talking about? You know I only have eyes for you," I whispered, a slight sense of guilt starting to weigh on me, causing me to lower my gaze.

"Good, liefde, then prove it," he said, pressing his face against mine. I felt his warm breath brushing my lips and his mischievous grin. Ah, that’s what had been in his eyes earlier: lust.

With my cheeks flushed pink, I made the first move, throwing myself onto his slightly chapped lips. Max knew me too well; I would never back down from his provocations.

His hands gripped my hips in a firm hold, pulling me against his body. His teeth sank into my lips, asserting his dominance.

Involuntarily, I let out a sharp squeal, which earned an approving sound from Max. His kisses moved down to my exposed neck, biting and sucking the sensitive spots he knew all too well.

When he pulled away, I ran my hand over the purple and red marks he had left on me. A shiver of excitement shot down my spine as Max seductively licked his lips.

"Kneel," he ordered in a firm, authoritative voice, as he unbuttoned his pants.

With a subdued nod, I knelt before him, noticing the bulge in his pants. When I saw his member freed from its restraints in front of my face, I felt a sharp pang of pleasure deep in my core. Without hesitation, I took him into my mouth, swirling my tongue around him. I could hear his muffled grunts under my touch, and the heat he caused throughout my body was heavenly.

"Damn…" His hands found a grip in my hair, tugging to push deeper into his sex. My cheeks flushed red as he completely controlled the rhythm. Gag reflexes took over my body, feeling his member contract and the veins growing rigid. Suddenly, I noticed the pace increasing, although sloppier, and after two more thrusts, Max released himself into my throat.

"Swallow it all, I don’t want to see a drop," he whispered, pulling me up by my hair. His cheeks were flushed pink, and sweat dripped down his forehead.

He was incredibly sexy. With a seductive movement, I placed my hands on his chest, letting his expensive jacket fall to the ground. The white shirt clung to his body from the sweat, revealing his sculpted abs.

Max dropped the authoritative act for a moment, planting a sweet, wet kiss on my lips, tasting himself, before returning to the Max from before.

Without effort, he lifted me into his arms, playing with the edge of my panties, slightly pushing them aside, brushing against my swollen, already wet lips.

"You're already ready for me, schatje? Pathetic," he whispered with a mischievous laugh on my lips, and his closeness definitely wasn’t helping.

Quickly, he aligned himself with my entrance and penetrated me, our ragged breaths mingling together. I could feel every part of him inside me, every small movement and his overwhelming heat. He didn’t wait a second before hammering into me at an inhuman pace. I was sure my screams could be heard throughout the club.

He was consistent, hard, and fast. No second thoughts or hesitation, his movements were precise and sure. I buried my face in his neck while he grunted, throwing his head back in pleasure.

The tip of his member hit my g-spot, making me melt like cream in his hands. I could no longer think straight. A warmth crept into my lower abdomen, and with each thrust, it became more intense and taut until it finally snapped, accompanied by a scream carrying his name in a vulgarly melodious way.

"He would never make you scream the way I do," he said between grunts, pushing even deeper, losing energy as he went.

After a few more thrusts, he reached the height of pleasure and came inside me with a stifled groan, muffled by a kiss full of sweetness and lust, mixed in a perfect cocktail.

Sweat dripped down his face as he lovingly pressed his forehead against mine.

"I love you, schatje," he whispered against my lips in a soft voice, planting a few kisses on my face.

"I love you too, especially when you're jealous," I said with a playful smile, grazing his earlobe with my teeth, making him shiver at the contact.

"Ready for the next round?" he said with a mischievous smirk, running his fingers down my back, exposed by the low cut of my dress.

"The night has only just begun..." I whispered, laughing softly as I gently caressed his cheek, my heart beating faster knowing what awaited me.

[thebibliosphere]

Wait, is Jason in Gotham Knights body horror? Because it doesn't feel like his body even tho he's controlling it? (He died, he came back, it's not the same and never will be)

Or is it more analogous to puberty and feeling like you don't know anything about your body anymore?

Just having thoughts about that boy again

I think Jason in Gotham Knights is very much connected with his physical body. It's his biggest weapon, possibly more so than his guns, given his lasting connection to the Lazarus Pit and the power it gives him.

His backstory talks about building himself up to peak physical condition into the absolute unit he is now, and you can either see that as someone trying to reconnect with their physical self or someone vowing never to be small or weak again.

I tend to think of it as both. It's a reclamation of his physical form but also a transformation into something bigger and stronger that ensures he's the scariest, meanest-looking mother fucker in the room. Basically someone you can't underestimate as a threat.

(Try not to think too hard about the fact that he now largely resembles Bruce in stature, that he is now the group's heavy hitter, the most menacing and the most likely to strike fear into the heart of his opponents, and that Jason molded himself into the person he needed to be rescued by as a child. Don't do it. Do not. I am normal about this.)

But he obviously struggles with feeling present mentally sometimes.

You'll see him zoning out occasionally, touching the J-shaped scar on his face before violently shaking himself back into the present.

He has panic attacks while playing a dance video game with a coffin in it—a coffin his character becomes trapped in because he's not moving fast enough. (hello, trauma)

He's angry all the time and so relieved when Barbra expresses her own rage at something because, yes, finally, someone else is letting their emotions out instead of bottling it up (Dick).

His emails are littered with orders for self-help books, emails from his therapist moving his sessions around, and concerned messages from his friends (Roy comes to mind) saying if he needs to get out of Gotham, they'll make it happen.

Alfred holding him while he sobs over losing Bruce still breaks me every time. I have to pause the game and walk around my house until I feel normal again.

And then there's the cut scene where Dick asks, "Hey, remember that time we all [insert funny thing here]," and Jason admits, somewhat angrily, that no, he doesn't because Lazarus took entire swaths of memories from him and he hates how he can't connect with people the way he used to and he hates the way they all look at him (the way Dick is looking at him now) when he admits he doesn't remember something they clearly loved about the old him: the version of him who didn't have volatile mood swings or made people flinch when he did something as mundane as handle a kitchen knife -- the undead monster he came back as*.

The fact that Dick then contrives to recreate this memory so Jason can be included in a newer version of it -- while also giving him what is arguably a weapon -- fucks me up every time. Dick just yeets a kitchen knife at him, trusting that Jason will catch it, and then just steamrolls over Jason's rightful 'what the fuck' expression with "Hey, we're making food. Get dicing."

And Jason knows what they're all doing. He's aware of it, and he gets the teeniest, tiniest smile before smothering it out. Except he can't quite. He's still smiling as he chops the vegetables. And yes, they're all hopeless at cooking compared to him, and he knows he's going to end up taking over, but that's okay. Because this is for him. He gets to control it.

And that's how Jason gets to make a new memory, one where he is handed a weapon and gets to turn it into a genuine expression of nurturing and care.

Because he does care about them. He wouldn't conspire with Dick to bake Barbara's favorite childhood cookies if he didn't. He wouldn't try so hard to be gentle with Tim triggering the shit out of him while he's struggling with his grief. He just doesn't always know how to express it because he doesn't always know what he's feeling.

Is his anger valid? Or is this Lazarus Pit Rage? Is he being overly sensitive because of his trauma, or is everyone else underreacting because of their trauma? (Should he sign them all up for therapy, quite probably, yes.)

So, you could perhaps argue that Jason experiences body horror in the sense that he doesn't remember all the pieces of who he used to be. (Speaking as someone with severe memory loss from medical trauma, it's certainly a type of horror.) But I don't think it's because he's detached from it physically or doesn't feel in control of his body. I think it's his mind that worries him.

His body he can control. It's his mind that still sparks green sometimes.

---

*Re the scene with Tim when Tim calls the Talons monsters. "What about me? Do you think I'm a monster?"

No, they don't.

But Jason does. And it scares him shitless.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Crazy For You was so good! Do you think you’ll continue it or write more similar to that?

Crazy For You Too || LN4

Summary: Just a little follow up the morning after part one ended. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, gaslighting, dub/con, dark themes WC: 1k Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four

You woke the next morning feeling strangely groggy and hungover, like there was a laden cloud heavy in your mind. There was no way you were going to be able to go to work but you couldn’t find your phone to call your boss. You searched everywhere but it wasn’t where you usually left it. 

With no other option, you padded off down the hall to knock on Lando’s door. 

“Good morning, Mr Riley,” you greeted the elderly man as he approached from the elevator.

“Would you keep it down next time, some of us like to sleep,” he grumbled as he walked on to his door. “You kids and your violent video games. Up at all hours. No respect.”

“Good morning, baby.” Lando opened the door and narrowed his eyes at Mr Riley before he pulled you inside for a kiss, but you were still reeling from the telling off you had just received. Lando looked like he had a late night and just woken up since he was still wearing only his boxers and his hair was a mess on one side and flat on the other. “What was Carl’s problem?”

You shrugged, genuinely perplexed at the entire interaction. “I don’t know.”

He frowned but it was gone as quick as it came. “How did you sleep?”

You shifted on your feet as you rubbed your wrist subconsciously, the ache seemingly coming on overnight. “Not very well. I had a really bizarre dream,” you admitted quietly as you walked further into the apartment. “I’m actually not feeling too good, I was going to call in sick but I can’t find my phone.”

“You’d lose your head if it wasn’t attached to your body,” he chuckled, handing his phone over. “Call from mine, love. Then we can go back to bed.”

Lando boiled the kettle while you called your boss, apologising for the late notice, but he was kind enough and told you to rest up. Sinking into the couch with a sigh, you placed the phone on the coffee table and dragged a blanket up over your body.

“Here, love, this will make you feel better,” Lando said as he passed you a steaming mug of herbal tea. You inhaled the aroma of lemon and ginger but there was a sweet scent that you couldn’t quite place. 

Taking a sip, you hummed as it soothed your sore throat and snuggled into Lando’s side. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Lando took the cup and placed it on the table. “It must have been something good,” he teased. His hand drifted up your thigh under the blanket and warmth spread across your skin in response. “How are you feeling?”

“Hot,” you replied honestly, the need to remove your clothes suddenly the most sensible thing you could think of. 

He grinned as he moved your trembling hands and pulled your shirt over your head before reaching for the button on your jeans. “Let me help you, baby.”

You moaned as the cool air kissed your skin but it still wasn’t enough. “I need you, Lan, please touch me.”

His eyes darkened as you fell back onto the couch, the blanket discarded so there was nothing hiding you from him. His mouth went dry and he licked his lips before he could use his voice, but still it sounded pained. “Where?”

You couldn’t think clearly with the fire blazing through you and you spread your legs in search of reprieve as you begged, “Everywhere.”

Lando’s lips eased the burning need in your core and his tongue chased away the fire that licked your skin. The room filled with the wanton sounds that erupted when he curled two fingers inside you and you buried your hands in his hair as you rolled your hips. 

One orgasm rolled into the next as the room spun around you, your quick breaths leaving you lightheaded. You didn’t even think about the consequences as you tugged Lando’s hair until he looked up to meet your eyes from where he lay at the juncture of your thighs. “I need you to fuck me right now, please…fuck, what is wrong with me?”

“Nothing’s wrong, baby,” he soothed as he kissed his way up the length of your body before capturing your lips. He absorbed the cry of delight as he filled you in one stroke and the fleeting thought you had was lost when he started to roll his hips with long, slow thrusts. “I love you, god, you have no idea how much I love you, what I would do for you, for us.”

You barely understood his murmurings in your ear as your pleasure mounted and your nails found purchase in his back as you came. 

Finally, the fire began to smoulder and you could breathe again. It was unlike any fever you had ever had and left you exhausted as Lando lay with you along the couch, dragging the blanket back over you as if he knew you were suddenly feeling the cold. 

“Did you say you love me?” you asked as your heart returned to its normal rate, the whispers lingering in your fucked out brain. 

“No,” he chuckled as he kissed your shoulder and wrapped his arm around your waist. 

“Oh.” You felt foolish and your cheeks warmed with an entirely different heat as you started to sit up.

His arm tightened around you, keeping you flush to his naked body before you could escape. “But I’m fucking crazy for you, baby, of course I love you.”

A knot tied in your stomach at the confession but you put it down to the nervousness of admitting that you felt the same. You had never felt this way about a man and the way he treated you was unlike anyone before him. He spoiled you and took care of you, it was natural to fall for him. “I love you too.”

You felt his smile on your nape and his fingers tickled your sides as he drew abstract pictures on your skin. “So move in with me,” he whispered. “This can be us everyday.”

Click here for part three.

[bloomingwisterias]

you have officially got me hooked on firefighter jason. the headcanon about him being so good with kids is what has me in shambles. this big tattooed guy covered in soot who ends up kneeling in front of a little girl he saved, wrapped her in an emergency blanket, and found a big bandage/piece of gauze and wrapped it around her doll’s shoulders so she could be warm, too. distracting her while the rest of the firefighting team works to help her family.

jason carrying the heavy burden of watching children experience trauma like that, losing family members and everything they’ve ever known. coming home from work and letting you wash his hair in the bath, humming softly as he speaks softly about the child he pulled from an apartment fire, or the cat he rescued from a tree. just small stories that humanize each and every case from the day.

i love it because watching him go from something so brutal and violent to something just as physical but helpful and community based is so important. jason todd is jaded toward a LOT of things but he loves his community. he loves the families and the children absolutely those trying their best in such difficult situations. anyway i love him

It was really not necessary to make me ball my eyes out, this is genuinely so so so adorable. Your mind is amazing!! I would like to add on to this as well!!

I always say that Jason is very soft and domestic, despite his past and this would translate into his firefighter job too. Especially when he takes care of children, the elderly or animals.

Jason may be this huge, scary looking dude with a rough past, but he has a heart of gold.

He takes care of the children, cradling their small hands in his large ones, while his coworkers focus on helping the children’s families. Jason always has a smile on his face and uses the most gentle tone when speaking to them.

He knows how hard life can get in Gotham, especially for the kids, so he always tries his best to make their life just a little bit easier, a little bit safer.

I think he would also go to schools and do presentations on fire hazards and the potential dangers. He would also show up for fire drills and would teach in a way that’s both fun and entertaining.

The children absolutely adore him.

He also often takes home stray cats that have found themselves in trees or other bad situations. He feeds them and makes sure they’re warm, before taking them to the vet or a shelter. If he could, he would try to keep them all at home with him.

Jason loves sharing stories with you, the good and the bad. You understand him and make him feel loved, comforted and safe. Some days, he’ll share stories over dinner, other days, the harder days, he’ll have his head gently placed on your lap.

He tears up sometimes, thinking about the things that some children have witnessed or the homes that families have lost due to fires and other disasters. It’s not the same, but it reminds him of his past.

Those nights, he just needs someone to listen and to take care of him. And you do just that.

[mihii-i]

hi there ! i’ve never requested anyone before but i saw that you like taking wlw requests so i caved 😭

as a hi3 player my raiden mei obsession has extended to acheron, and i’d love to see some general dating hcs. maybe what her preferences are (even sexual preferences huhuhrheheheh), how she shows love and affection, or whatever you feel like adding!

i have a severe acheron addiction so if you suddenly get an influx of acheron asks it’s probably me 😇

acheron general dating hcs

Pairings: acheron x fem!reader

CW: sfw and nsfw, female reader, afab reader, nsfw below the second cut, one hc is angst, strap on mention, cunnilingus, face sitting, praise kink, slight mention of degradation, bondage, romantic sex, fingering, biting, slicey slicey white hair acheron yay (both in a kinky way and in a scary way), um I love tea :3

A/N: GIRL ME TOOO IM SO OBSESSED WITH ACHERON ITS ACTUALLY WILD SHES ACTUALLY MY FAV HSR CHARACTER I LOEV THIS WOMAN SM ALSO PLEASE REQUEST ACHERON I AM ENCOURAGING THIS SO HARD REQUEST A ONESHOT IF YOU CAN IM GONNA EAT THE WALL anyway sorry for that I just love acheron a little too much <3 🕯️

I’m just gonna be completely honest Acheron is such a sweetheart when you’re dating her.

She shows affection in the most random ways it’s genuinely adorable- like she’ll buy you a random piece of food from Penacony’s golden hour or something or hug you from behind while resting her chin on your shoulder with a soft hum.

Really enjoys it when you kiss her face all over, it makes her feel loved and special.

That being said I feel like she’d be a fan of the lipstick trend too.

I feel like she’d enjoy recording things on her phone instead of yours. Like whenever you guys take a selfie or record a memory, she always pulls her phone out before you can get yours. Probably cause she’ll remember them if they’re on her phone.

No worries she still forwards them to you <3

Acheron absolutely loves it when you sit in her lap or snake yourself under her arm while leaning against her side to cuddle. She’d always wrap her arm around you with a soft smile and pull you close against her.

Whenever you two are on dates, and she gets up to use the restroom, she frequently forgets where she’s going or loses her way to it. So often times, you usually tail her as a companion because she ends up doing a whole side quest lmao-

Not very talkative in your relationship, but shows her affection when she usually just stays calm and prefers to hold you in silence, leaning against your chest to remind herself that you’re here with her whenever she hears your hearbeat.

Completely random but she probably somehow accidentally caught a fish and brought it home to you. To which you just raised an eyebrow out of disappointment and confusion, but it’s ok because it’s Acheron and you love her. <3

She may not show it, but she gets really happy when you buy her peaches or something peach flavored, since it’s one of the few things she can taste :( [the way I started violently sobbing after writing this bullet]

One time when she accidentally showed you her slicey slicey form you ended up being a little terrified, and she feels awful for it. She tried so hard to make it up to you, literally bought you anything she wanted, showered you with kisses, took you out on a romantic date, almost everything.

Sometimes you have to tell Acheron to loosen her grip, since when you two sleep she hugs you WAY too tight. Like, this woman can accidentally kill someone out of affection.

she’s like a cat with a resting bitch face, but is really sweet tbh…or maybe I just love cats too much.

Smells like peaches and rainwater and you can’t change my mind, maybe a hint of cherry blossom perfume :)

Someone get her google maps I love her sm

nsfw below the cut.

Contrary to what everyone says—Acheron is NOT a top in my opinion. She’s a switch. A MASSIVE FUCKING SWITCH ‼️

Her strap game go crazy though trust

Nothing more this woman loves than digging her fingers into your thighs and parting them to eat you out like you were her last meal she would have in centuries. <3

I feel like she’d love face sitting, giving or receiving.

Screamer? Nah she groans and it sounds unbelievably hot. Like-?

A lot of people believe that she’s into degrading BUT I DONT THINK SO AHAHA I feel like she prefers praise, since she doesn’t like the idea of degrading you and making you seem like you’re less than her :(

Even if you’re into that, it takes a lot to convince her that you really want to and even then she’s super hesitant and barely even tries to degrade you. Probably switches back to praise midway since she can’t shit talk you at all. She’s too sweet for that.

Seriously into romantic sex over kinky sex, but isn’t afraid to throw in some crazy kinks every once in a while, bondage being one of her favorites.

Acheron would absolutely love it when you whisper how much you love her into her ear, and whine out how you don’t want her to leave. It makes her feel all warm and fuzzy as she reassures you she’s yours forever, and how you’re hers.

You whisper that stuff while she’s topping? Great, your legs aren’t gonna work tomorrow as she’s buried in your cunt and your moans are muffled by her lips smashed against yours. When she’s bottoming? Congrats, you made her even wetter as she’s trying to bite her lip to control the filthy groans from her throat and grinding down against your fingers or strap.

Biter. Like hold her as close as you can and she’ll bite down onto you HARD. Still licks the area in case it hurts though. Along with that, she loves it when you bite her back—she just thinks they look pretty.

I feel she’s ripped your clothing off on multiple occasions. Especially when she’s in her other form and wants to have sex with you. Afterwards or before, she apologizes and promises to buy you a brand new one.

Speaking of which she has DEFINITELY fucked you real good when she goes white hair and slicey slicey

She adores the idea of just towering over you with her hands planted beside your head, bonus points if she gets to hold your hands.

Her aftercare is immaculate mwah

Constantly checks up on you and showers you with praise and kisses wawawawawa while helping you clean up, and probably puts on a movie or something while cuddling up to you.

If you’re the one giving aftercare please hug her as tight as possible and reassure her she did good, just hold her hand with your fingers laced between hers as you promise against her skin that you’ll stay with her. Literally do it or else I’m going to eat your cupcakes omg

Falls asleep in your arms 3 out of 4 times everytime you guys have sex late at night.

I’m too gay for her it’s not even funny anymore atp

A/N: ONE, I KNEW I HAD TO WORK ON THIS AS SOON AS I SAW IT EVEN THOUGH ITS 2 AM AND I SHOULD BE ASLEEP. AND TWO, IF SOMEONE ASKS “well why is it so long 🥺🥺” BECAUSE I LOVE ACHERON SHUSH

anon I’m encouraging this behavior please request me more acheron and acheron oneshots I’m begging u I’m totally normal about her

[sector38]

From Sector: 38

Entry: II

After my last "encounter," my mind was made – I couldn't just sit at the edge of the sector staring out at the abyss – a hunger had made itself a home inside of me, nested under my bosom and in between my ribcage. For what it was worth, I could now say I was the proud owner of a brand new sector pass (actually in date this time), meaning I could also now apply for a real job. Before, it felt like I was wading through murky waters devoid of a lighthouse: without any sense of direction or purpose, but now I knew where I was going, who I was to be, and what I was to become – a xenologist.

It wasn't the easiest job. When I told my friends, they outright laughed. Sure, the world wasn't what it used to be – fancy bits of laminated paper were all lost to the flood – but that didn't mean that anyone could just walk in with zero qualifications, no questions asked. This was especially so for jobs that didn't exist pre-flood (including but not limited to, you guessed it, xenology). Before, if the job existed, maybe I would have gone to some elite university and collected my certificate that, for some reason, was meant to equate four years of my life, with a smile – now, we had the circuits.

On the bright side, it was a shorter process, 6-12 months if you survived that long and shorter if you didn't. I didn't know the process that well (sue me), but I knew that I would be starting at the outer tier, maintenance (glorified clean-up crew) and working my way in, each stage more deadly than the last until finally I reached the core, or as its more commonly known, "The Arena." I could never just choose the easy path.

I knew I should have been nervous, but... I just wasn't. I guess after the encounter, it was hard to feel like I hadn't been given some top-secret information that put me ahead. I hadn't really had the time to think about it, or I did, but there wasn't really much to say or do. It wasn't like I could tell anyone – I don't know what would have been worse: them not believing me or their faces of disgust.

When all countries were dissolved, you'd have liked to think everyone would lose their patriotism (you know, considering there were no more countries to worthlessly devote themselves to) – wrong. The world became one big country, one metaphorical empire ruled by the human race. This meant anyone or anything not of the human race or not subservient to the human race (like my neighbour, Julie's pet squid) was technically considered an enemy of the state.

Wait, did I fuck a public enemy?

First-day jitters were nothing in comparison to whatever I was feeling, especially considering this wasn't even my first day more like a very short tester solo shift - in all my time on sector 38 I'd never felt seasick (probably because the plates don't move) and yet here I was suddenly greatly empathetic towards the poor souls who found themselves violently ill holidaying in pacific waters. I could barely walk straight, my legs felt like jelly, and my stomach was so heavy I genuinely wondered if I'd swallowed an anchor between breakfast and lunch.

Even now, i still don't understand why i was alone during my tester shift? I get that it was just three tasks, but typically, unless you're a high-level, you're not to be left alone - always followed by a superior. Still, as i said, it wasn't even like I was going to be doing much, according to the alerts who sent me my assignments the night before my shift

. Stack the crates

. File away medical instruments

. Clean the pods on deck Xv_2

Pretty standard stuff, to be honest. If i cared half as much as i should, I'd be outraged that they gave me such menial work - but i didn't, so i wasn't. All i cared about was getting to see more of them, speak to them, and understand them, and the only way to do that was to become a xenologist.

At that point, I couldn't care less about hierarchy and ranks - i didn't understand the tangled web of beurocracy or how clearing badges worked, well not until I'd spent less than five seconds on the deck and i was promtly told

"Attention!"

The wooden crate I'd be carrying dropped to the ground with a hollow thud, the solid wood colliding with the metal flooring, making an awful cacophony. I looked up at the figure and saw a man dressed in a black suit with a white under shirt and black tie, on his black hair sat snug a white naval cap and across his chest a number of metal pins. He looked at me expectantly, i hadn't been told anyone else would be on shift as far as I knew I was supposed to meet my peers next week.

While trying to carefully stack the box in the appropriate space, I gave an awkward smile

"Hi"

Somehow, in a moment, his face grew colder, from freezing to a subzero tundra in an instant - I could tell he wanted to say more, to reprimand me, put me in place - but promtly his alarm sounded on his right wrist.

He left without a word, his face coloured with urgency.

To say I was confused would be an understatement. In the new world, the navy took on a more active role with the marines following suit to a lesser degree and the army taking the least precedence out of the three - so seeing a navy officer wasn't unheard of or even uncommon, but a lieutenant?

It just didn't make any sense, especially considering my work for today was entirely made up of menial tasks - and the look on his face as he left or even before that when I greeted him? I'm not in the navy, clearly so why what was he expecting me to do? Salute? Bowe? Kiss the ground beneath his feet?

It didn't matter, I told myself, i quite literally had one job: keep my head down and become a certified xenologist...well, aside from cleaning the pods on deck.

After stacking the last of the crates and refusing to give into my temptation of opening them, I set about trying to look for the ever elusive deck Xv_2

I mean, would it have KILLED them to give me a map or something? All the corridors looked the same - eggshell cream walls with blue strip lights - every turn, every left, every right didn't feel like it was getting me any closer, to be honest, I wasn't sure if this was some sort of time warp zone, an after effect of some eldritch creature washed up during the flood.

Wandering through the halls, I passed numerous rooms with bolted doors and bright yellow signs with bold black writing, as if they were so afraid that someone might accidentally open the securely locked doors - aside from doors armed to the teeth I passed a myriad of people, i can't really use one word to describe them:

From white coats with slicked-back hair, needle-straight posture to black suits, black ties, white collars, and broze pins to white hazmat suits and black boots.

Like some sort of machine, my brain was fixed on identifying and categorising my colleagues (colleagues). Well, that was until I heard it, tapping against the walls

It was faint at first, easily missable, but then the sounds grew louder, the rapid patter of the metal walls surrounding me like rain against the window - except there was nothing to see, no visible trace of the source of the sound just the noise, just the polyphonic array.

If this was a film, the corridors would be dimly lit with no signs of life but my own heartbeat and panting breath ringing in my ears, but this is the real world, if anything the bright neon lights and the industrious workers who I chanced upon only led to an increase in my anixety - it was as though i was going insane, as though i was being followed

"Could no one else hear that?"

The noise was atonal and offbeat - seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once, bouncing off the walls like an echo. My eyes darted around the corners of the walls as I discreetly tried to turn my head to locate the source of the sound only to be met with nothing. Whatever it was, it was quick. It was just too quick, the persistent creature darting always just out of sight.

Finally, after what felt like a literal millennia, I ran into a steal door labelled

Xv_2

I pushed both the persistent scurrying aside and the absurdly weighted door - inside a dimly lit room with large cylinders attached to the centre wall. To call it a deck seemed overly gracious, with the sizing being more akin to an office space or a large storeage room.

As i walked closer towards the cylinders, I understood why they needed to be cleaned - they were filthy, dust coating them in an opaque sheild blocking any possible view of whatever was sealed within them.

I grabbed the tissue pack I'd hastily shoved in my bra before leaving the house and stared at the cylinders - there was NO way they'd be enough. A part of me seriously thought about using my top, but the thought quickly vanished when i remembered I did actually have to leave the facility without being arrested for public indecency.

And that's when i felt it, a brush of cold air against my neck, raising my hair and sending a shiver down my spin. Instantly, I dropped my tissue pack on the small table and turned around but only to be met by nothing, empty space. I stared out at the room for a moment as though someone or something would magically appear it would probably still have only been the second strangest thing to happen to me as of last.After sufficiently staring out into an empty room I turned back around...

The tissues were gone.

I looked down at the floor, nothing. Half baked thoughts swirled around my head as i looked around the room

"I could have sworn i- did i bring them? Yes. Maybe i dropped them on a crate? No, i had them when-"

Finally, i got on my knees searching underneath the desk in hopes that somehow they'd fallen and I'd kicked them under. It was so dark I should have brought my phone or a flashlight or something, as I lent further under the desk the space narrowed which, if i was paying attention i would have known.

But, alas, i wasn't - instead, my mind was still fixed on how i needed to be more prepared in the future and how i shouldn't have a phone if i wasn't going to use it because the last time I didn't bring my phone i got-

Cold.

Cold air against my bare thighs, that feeling again. Except this time the cold felt more real? The touch more weighted less like the air and more like a person?

I stilled against the feeling, with every passing second the pressure grew till i could shape the outline: a hand.

I tried to move backwards from under the desk but promptly the feeling of another hand splayed across my waist - halting any movement. The hand across my waist kept a firm solid grip, with the cold air seeping through my clothes and onto my skin as though I were naked whilst the other fingers which previously splayed across my thigh began to move, inching ever so slowly towards my upper thigh.

Maybe it was the confusion or remnants of my first (but technically not first) day jitters. Maybe it was a cocktail of both, but I found myself slightly pushing towards the unknown force. Whatever it was must have taken that as a sign because suddenly, the fingers brushed in between my inner thighs dangerously close to my knickers.

I didn't know who or what was behind me, no-one else was in the room bar me and with only one entrance and exist it would have be impossible for anyone to come in without my knowledge - especially considering how heavy the door was.

This couldn't be a who, I thought. It must have been a what.

The thought excited me, that familiar warmth spreading in my lower stomach now juxtaposing the icy touch of the creature - I couldn't help but let out a breathy whimper. The creature must have heard because, within an instant, its cold finger pressed against my clothed entrance. The pressure was barely there, barely feelable almost imperceptible but that's what made is to so maddening - what made me push back against it despite the very firm hand on my waist.

We continued our dance: me pushing backwards, aching and desperate for any sort of relief or solid touch, and its outright reluctance to give it to me aside from the arctic hold on my mid section I could feel myself growing wetter, throbbing in a hot aching want. If i was capable of shame at that point, I would have been berating myself for wearing white panties instead of a more concealing black.

The feel of the wet material sticking to me and the mystery surrounding the strange figure was getting to be too much, I'd tried to bite my glossed lips concealing more whimpers and moans but i couldn't hold back anymore. I began to rock back harder, sounds slipping from my mouth like condensation down glass till the monster showed me mercy.

A cool finger began to push into me through my now presumably clear underwear, the sensation of wet cotton and the icy appendage dipping into me making me moan all the more - but it wasn't enough. I began to beg, pleas falling from my mouth faster than my brain could protest.

Cold and wet dragged along my cunt so abruptly I hit my head against the desk but I was too aroused to care - slowly the figure dragged its icy dripping tongue against me, lapping up my desire through my panties and adding to the wet region.

The drag was devastatingly slow, and whilst the pressure was a reprieve from my previous torture, it was nowhere near enough, tears gathered in my eyes as I begged for more. Then, I felt the being give one final lick before spreading my thighs out further and removing its hand from my waist - I was untouched.

For a brief moment, i wondered if it had left me, alone and hungry, desperate for something more - thankfully, it didn't. Instead, I felt what seemed to be a light kiss to my upper thigh before my skirt was bunched up to above my ass. The suddenness of it all made my gasp like a scandalised southern bell -as though I wasn't begging to be fucked by a stranger (who most definitely wasn't human) under a desk at my first day at work- though rapidly my gasp morphed into a whine as I felt the monster slip underneath my shaking spread out thighs so that the back of its head might rest against the floor with now both hands grasping my waist and hips.

It began to lick into me (still over my underwear) with a passion that I've never known, the glacial touch contrasting the warm friction building. I began to rock and press down onto its tongue and in response it sucked and licked and fucked into me with its tongue.

I'd asked, begged for more and I'd gotten it but I've always been greedy, always been stupid and reckless and impulsive, always been bossy even when I'm on my knees and then was absolutely no different.

"Let me fuck your mouth"

Instantly as soon as the words left my mouth I felt it moan against me the sensation only making me want it more, carefully after giving a few more playful sucks it released me - somehow even with its cold presence when it left me, the room felt so much more glacial.

I slid out from under the desk my shaking legs doing very little to help me in this endeavour, but before i could turn around to face the entity hands covered my eyes, of course this did nothing in ways of stopping me from seeing but I understood the getsture and so I closed my eyes.

Once my eyes were closed, the figure rearranged our bodies like a jigsaw piece as though it and I were one cohesive being all while I was immersed in the faint scent of sea salt and rain-soaked earth emanating from the creature - the delicate nature of the smell, alien to the steady yet all-consuming auror of the beast - like the sky before a storm. Once again, it was pressed against the ground with the back of its head to the metal flooring, and I was on top of it, this time fully able to sit with a straight posture.

It slowly guided me with my eyes still closed to its mouth with my still clothed cunt at first gently resting against its lips not wanting to move before it was ready till I felt it place both its sturdy hands on my waist and force me to rock into its mouth slightly.

I began slow, moving backwards and forwards on its cold tongue, trying to find a starting rhythm before the heat that momentarily subsided rose in full formation. Its hands were everywhere on my waist, my hips, my tummy. Like it was pushing and pulling me down and up, away, and to. Then suddenly one of its strong arms was lifting me slightly off its mouth eliciting an unexpected whine from me whilst the other moved the lace fabric to the side before gently lowering me back onto its cold wet mouth.

The feeling was foreign, invasive, intrusive, like a virus spreading through my body overtaking each nerve and blood cell before leaving me powerless to resist or even the desire to. The cold spit-soaked tongue dragged perfectly against me like waves hitting against the rocks, never missing their mark. I began to ride into its mouth, eyes rolling to the back of my head as I felt a familiar pressure build within me. I was so close to the edge, to the beginning and end of bliss. I didn’t know what the creature was or if it was even capable of feeling pleasure in the same way I did, but the desperate movements of its cold hands, one gripping my waist and the other my boobs showed me I wasn't alone in my heightened arousal.

Pleas and cries spilt from my lips, each more nonsensical and crass than the last:

"Please, please, fuck I'll be so good, fuck, your mouth its so- so perfect, you're so good for me, fuck, just like that, right there-"

Till eventually like an electrical current, the feeling washed over me - like fuzzy static interferce my whole body sparked alite. Its cold hands pressed me down harder as my body spasmed, tears welled in my eyes as I tried to move away, the pleasure building to be all too much, the overstimulation becoming extreme - but its presence remained lapping up my cum from my wet, warm, throbbing cunt.

My legs felt like jelly as it finally allowed me to stand, my lack of balance definitely not helped by my inability to see.

"Can I open my eyes... Tap me twice for yes?"

I felt a press of cold lips against my neck and then temple, sending a shiver down my spine and a small smile on my face before opening my eyes and turning around to see

Nothing.

I looked around the room confusion growing clearer on my face - thoughts regarding whether I'd made the whole scenario up in my head beginning to take root - before I felt cold hands rest against my cheek holding my head tilted slightly upwards before I felt cold lips move again against mine. The kiss was dry, soft, and sweet, still smelling of sea salt and storms and in that moment my mind was still, at peace like a total oneness with the world, with the truth whatever that may be.

Warning. Warning. Emergency alert. Code Amber. Please isolate in groups immediately. This is not a drill. Repeat. Warning. Warning. Emergency alert. Code Amber. Please isolate in groups immediately. This is not a drill.Warning. Warning. Emergency alert. Code Amber. Please isolate in groups immediately. This is not a drill. Repeat. Warning. Warning. Emergency alert. Code Amber. Please isolate in groups immediately. This is not a drill.

[nyarumie]

Water Predicament. (Oneshot)

narumi gen x f!reader - smut, NSFW. improper use of gaming controller, pussy eating and fingering, i guess this counts as pussy drunk gen, best friends to ???

Author's Note: Literally my FIRST ever smut/nsfw 😭 Forgive me if there are lapses here and there, I tried my best! Let me know if you want a part two 💌 Feedback is appreciated!

Cross-posted on Ao3. Please check pinned for masterlist, links, and other important info (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

This was only an accident.

As best friends, it is only natural for you to stay in Gen’s office on a daily nightly basis, gracing him with your company (and occasional co-op) as “a sign of your mighty and genuine friendship”, your words, not his.

He had asked you to join him in Mario Kart, deciding it was nice to take a breather from grind-heavy games. You, who has been cleaning up his mess for the past hour out of boredom, happily accepted the invitation.

You sat cross-legged beside him on his futon, grabbing the long forgotten controller on the floor.

Pocky in mouth, he asked you, “You fine with random maps?”

“Always up for anything.” you said.

He wordlessly set up the round you’ll be playing, taking this opportunity to eat up as many pocky sticks as you can; not that he’ll run out of it, half of his snack supply was from you. As you grab another pocky, you hear the countdown of the round go off.

“3… 2…” Now that's your sign to get the gear working.

“1… Go!”

And the vehicles went off. Both of you were silent, save for the occasional grumbles and curses whenever a random player takes over you.

This went on for several rounds, and by the 5th round, you found yourself getting thirsty. Losing or winning didn't matter to you, deciding to stop in the middle of the race. Scanning the stashes of unopened cans, you find that none of those caffeinated drinks fancy your tastes.

You tugged at Gen’s oversized shirt’s sleeve, gaining a percentage of his attention, but still not looking away from the screen. “Mhm?”

“Gen, don't you have a bottle of water around here? I need a drink.”

“Beside me.”

So he does drink water too.

Getting up, you went over to his other side and grabbed an unopened bottle. You went back to your original position, pressing the controller between your thighs as you tried to open the bottle.

‘The cap isn't even budging!’ you internally complained.

You decided to press the water bottle in your thigh too, making the controller press further in.

You're still struggling with opening the cap, despite your thighs and one hand tightly holding it down while the other tries forcing it to twist. Looking to the side, you see Gen still paying no mind to you, which is totally fine, just to save yourself from this predicament.

‘I can kill a goddamn Honju and not open a shit ass water bottle? You’ve gotta be kidding me!’

As you struggle with the bottle, your unmoving Mario Kart character has finally been found by the other players, purposely attacking you with direct-hit items just to torment you—a stranger to them all. Hit after hit causes the system to consequently cause the controller to… shake violently against your clothed sex.

You paid no mind to it, thinking that it will pass—but oh, the random players you matched with are ruthless. They won't stop the attack, the controller’s vibration not stopping anytime soon; causing you to weaken your grip on the water bottle and try your hardest to not moan.

You should've known better and pulled the controller away, but alas, before you can even do that, a rather loud and needy whine slipped from your lips.

Your head whipped to Gen’s direction swiftly, checking if he even heard you, only to find him still focused on the game.

Embarrassed is an understatement to describe you right now. You felt ashamed and disgusted that you’d even feel pleasure from whatever this is! For goodness’ sake, this is Gen’s game controller! It just so happened to have a vibrating feature, that's all.

Still… you’d be lying if you denied the pleasure you felt. Awkwardly, you slid further back so that you won't be caught by Gen’s peripheral vision. You kept the stick of the controller right where you pressed them, a different kind of thirst starting to overtake your senses—water bottle now disregarded.

Pathetic, you felt absolutely pathetic. The perfect definition of getting horny at the wrong place and wrong time. You felt your breathing gradually getting heavier at each vibration you felt, licking your lips as you got needier. You should stop, but you can't. You’re mentally apologizing to Gen right now.

Unable to help it, you once again slip out another needy sound, much subtle this time. “F-fuck…”

To your horror, you suddenly heard him speak, causing you to shriek and pull away the controller.

“You know, you could've just told me if you wanted to fuck.” he said, now turning to watch you with, eyes filled with amusement.

“What are you—!”

“Hm. Right. What were you doing? And to my controller, too.”

Looking at anything but him, your head is a mess as you try to reason your way out if this. Is he mad? “Um… Gen! I was just… just trying to open the water bottle and, this — it was an accident!”

He started inching closer to you, and you know you should be avoiding him, but it's as if you're a deer caught in the headlights, unable to move.

“I’m no idiot. I was also throwing at your character, y’know. That was no accident.”

His arms caged you from where you are sitting, your eyes going wide at your close proximity. You know his figure and stature is much larger than yours, but hell, the evident difference from how close the two of you are makes you want to be devoured.

“At first, I thought nothing of your needy whine as frustration; that water bottle sure is tight as hell. But you were acting weird out of the blue. And you’re not particularly too quiet either, in case you didn't know.”

There's no use denying the obvious, then. You placed your hands on his chest, eyebrows knitting closely together. “Alright, alright! Fine, I was nasty and felt disgusting using your controller that way. I apologize. I should've—”

“You should've asked me to fuck you instead. There, I finished it for you.”

Pinkish hues stared back at your colored irises, his eyes showing no hint of humor, rendering you speechless.

Sensing your hesitation, he lowered his head to the junction of your ear and jaw, softly trailing his lips across the outline of your face. Your heart thumped at this, breathing getting heavy.

A hand made its way over the expanse of your exposed thigh, a blessing that you wore comfortable shorts tonight. His other hand gripped your waist, fingers going underneath your shirt.

“Gonna keep caressing you like this if you don't tell me what you want.”

He’s not making this any easier for you at all. You already felt too heated up at the slightest touch he gave you, saying out loud your desires is just outright embarrassing that you’d rather fade into thin air. But you were getting needier, and you trusted Gen more than you trust anyone.

Breathlessly, you tightly grabbed his shirt, finally giving in. “Gen… Gen, please, need something, need you—wanna feel good, please.”

Hearing this, he wasted no time slotting his lips against yours, earning a whine from you. Without pausing, he wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you, sitting you back down on his lap. His hands wandered almost everywhere—your thighs, arms, the plushness of your ass, and the shape of your waist. With newfound courage, your tongue sought entrance to his mouth, causing him to groan and squeeze your asscheeks.

His hands found their way through the inside of your shirt, trailing all the way up to cup your breasts. He suddenly pulled away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting you. With hooded eyes, you raise a brow at him in confusion.

He kissed your nose. “Let me know if I do something that makes you uncomfortable. I’m giving you a free pass to punch me too.”

You snort. “Didn't know you can still crack a joke. But of course, I’ll take your words to heart. Please continue?”

“Mhm… You're so needy.” he said, pulling your shirt up along the process, revealing your sports bra underneath. You still wear these even at night?

Deciding to tease you, he lightly pinched your nipples through your bra, causing you to whine and arch your back towards him, your hands finding purchase in his hair. “Don't tease. Please, need more. Wanna feel your mouth everywhere, Gen.”

Satisfied with this, he hummed and removed your sports bra and shirt in one go, tongue immediately teasing the surrounding of a nipple and a hand on the other.

Your breath shuddered at the sensation, now fully aware of how close you're hugging him to you.

His mouth moved to the other breast and sucked, groaning at how hard your nipple has become. You hear him speak throughout his ministrations, your whines turning into moans at how lewd his sucking sounds. “Mmpf… So soft, you're so fucking turned on. I bet you're drenched down there right now,” he groaned.

One of his hands supported the back of your head, the other going around your waist. “Wrap your legs around me.” he said.

You did as he asked, moving to lay you down on his futon. He moved his way down, pulling your shorts off of you along the process. He held your legs apart, staring with awe at the wetness evident in your panties. He pressed his thumb to your still covered pussy, earning a whine from you. “Gen, more. Please, do something, anything. Need to come.”

Wordlessly, he moved your panties to the side, cursing at the sight of your fully exposed wetness. “God, you're practically dripping. How shameless you are, really.” he teased. “Since you started with my controller, how about…”

He started another round of game on his BS5, setting the difficulty to the highest mode—that’ll make the AI-controlled opponents continuously attack his unmoving character, causing the controller to vibrate nonstop.

You held your breath in anticipation, getting needier at his idea. The game started, and he pressed the controller to your dripping hole as he felt it vibrate. Your back arched, surprised at the sudden sensation. “H-hah…! Give me a warning next time!”

He just shrugged and continued, moving the controller to your clit. “Fuck… Gen, i-it’s vibrating too hard— Mmph! Feels so good, hah…” Hearing your moans fueled him to turn you into an even greater mess, pressing it harder to your clit and two of his fingers easily entering your dripping hole.

The sensation felt too overwhelming, your moans echoing in his room, body uncontrollably spasming. It's been far too long since you've felt such intense pleasure, and you haven't even come yet! Your legs would've closed together if it weren't for his wide figure, leaving you with no choice but to grab on one of his arms instead, your other hand finding purchase on his futon.

He's so relentless—uncaring of how loud you’ve become, just focused on fucking you with his fingers. He hears you moan his name repeatedly, your head tossing and turning. He feels you getting tighter, a sign of your imminent orgasm.

The gradual, violent shocks from his controller almost rendered your clit numb, one last vibration finally making you gush around his fingers. Your hand tightened its grip on his arm, the hand on his futon covering your mouth as you fell into a silent scream, back arching. Gen mutters a series of curses at the sight of you unraveling before him, fucking you with his fingers throughout your orgasm.

He pulled his fingers out when he heard you whine, aware of how sensitive your hole is. You call him, “Gen. That was… unbelievable.”

“Oh yeah? That better be. But I’m not done with you yet.” he said, a devilish grin adorning his face. “I’ve yet to get a taste of you. Need to clean and drink you up.”

“Wait—!”

He placed his hands at your thighs, lifting them to place them on his broad shoulders. He wasted no time lapping up your juices, the feeling of his tongue making you shudder. His tongue got a taste of your come-slicked hole, moving to swirl it around your clit. This causes you to grip his hair, your other hand pinching your own nipples.

The slurping sounds from your pussy sounded too obscene, him making it known to you that he was definitely having the time of his life devouring you like this. “Gen… too sensitive. But—hah… Wanna come on your tongue, please.”

Good heavens, he wasn't even fingering you, but you can feel your liquid arousal dripping out of you. Gen’s licking on your clit turned your heavy breaths into high pitched moans, the lower half of your body starting to spasm. You felt him wrap his lips around your clit, now sucking it hard, causing you to come even harder than before.

He wiped his mouth at the back of his hand, moving up to slowly kiss you full on in the mouth. Your weakened arms wrapped around his shoulders, welcoming his relaxing gesture.

After a while, he pulled away, a smug grin on his face. “I’m a whole lot better than my gaming controller, aren't I?”

Seriously? Is that why he started this?

You rolled your eyes. “I never said it was better than you. Also, what happened to ‘should've fucked you’? Your dick’s still in your pants, mister.”

You felt his hands slide down your legs, moving it to cross over his back. “Never said we’re done.” He grinded his painfully obvious erection on your drenched pussy, a sign that the night is yet to end.

You silently prayed you’ll be able to walk tomorrow — you have a whole bunch of officers to train, or else you’ll get a week’s worth of scolding from Hasegawa!

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

Every time I learn something new about Batman: War Games I lose my mind a little bit more cause just, just fuckin, look okay so here's the thing:

Stephanie Brown tries to implement a contingency plan of Bruce's just after he fires her from being Robin and because of that gets tortured to (almost) death and no one knows she survived.

THIS STORY RUNS IN THE NEWS:

So, you know, anyone who might be paying even half a fucking ounce of attention to news about ROBINS would definitely absolutely notice this!!!

And then very very soon afterwards Jason comes back and specifically targets Black Mask to ruin the criminal empire he tortured Stephanie to get

As a way to torment Bruce about the fact that he doesn't take care of the nastiest criminals and they continue killing people

And how Jason should have been the last to die

and SOMEHOW

these two things are in no way related and Jason has nothing to do with or say about Stephanie Brown, fellow Robin, fellow martyred soldier, fellow child dead due to Bruce related villains.

HOLY DEAD SIDEKICKS BATMAN, DO YOU COMPREHEND THE MAGNITUDE OF MISSED OPPORTUNITIES HERE????

please walk with me down a timeline in which:

Lost Days Jason at first just tries to go after the Joker and can't because who he's really mad at is Bruce.

Then he sees Who Really Killed Stephanie Brown and the utter horror of another Robin dying on Bruce's watch (not just dying, but tortured to death!) is what convinces him to try to straight up kill Bruce via car bomb

Roman Sionis is no longer merely a tool against Batman, but another figure to demand vengeance be brought upon, another attempt to give Bruce a chance to right his wrongs and do what needs to be done

The confrontation with him and the Joker being all the more tragic due to how obvious Bruce's answer would have to be once Jason knows Bruce isn't going to avenge Stephanie either

Does Jason, once he escapes the rubble after UtRH is over, kill Black Mask anyways? Does he decide to avenge her himself? Or does he think that she too would demand that of Bruce, and find his death by a different hand unsatisfactory?

If he doesn't kill Black Mask, then when Steph is back, I feel confident he approaches her, tries to reach out to the other dead Robin, almost certainly makes the offer now that he can ask her. Does she take him up on it, gaining an ally and slipping into a far darker role? Does she instead refuse, either appealing to forgiveness or far more interestingly refusing both vengeance and forgiveness? How would Jason handle a refusal, which I gut instinct feel is more likely?

If he does kill Black Mask, then when Steph is back Jason drops his corpse at her feet like a loving housecat with a dead lizard and she has to grapple with her feelings about having someone really and truly avenge her!!! Like how DO you react to someone who you have been warned is wildly dangerous and mentally unstable coming up to you and saying, "I'm glad you're back, like me. I'm sorry you're back, like me. I made sure you could rest knowing he was dead, because I know what it feels like."

Like no matter how each character reacted to this happening there would be so much high stakes emotional shit to explore with both of them!! Revenge I feel like is such a pivotal thing for both characters, they mirror each other in so so many ways, they could be really interesting together if DC would just fucking let them!!!

Jason had a criminal father who he missed and wanted to avenge. Stephanie had a criminal father who she wanted vengeance on.

Jason started off as a fairly gentle soul who progressively became more violent and more hopeless as he was exposed to genuine horrors during his time as Robin. Stephanie starts off violent, angry and rash and finds her own courage and hope through her time as a crime fighter despite of the horrors she's been through.

Jason went to Africa and died there after Bruce failed to save him. Stephanie was taken to Africa via a fake death in order to save her from Bruce and the vigilante lifestyle.

I just...

There's just...

There's SO MUCH HERE I am genuinely fucking confused as to how this is not all deliberate?? And it's all just left on the cutting room floor because for no reason apparent to me they all just decided Stephanie and Jason were not gonna interact!

AAGHHHH!

[jennifer-jeong]

Fluff + Mild Angst | JJK Men x GN!Reader What Made Them Fall For You?

Itadori Yuji, Fushiguro Megumi, Gojo Satoru

SUMMARY Headcanons on what makes the JJK pookies fall for you <3

CONTENT NOT SPOILER FREE (includes manga and anime spoilers), fluff, gender neutral reader, men falling for reader, reader is a sorcerer, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

AUTHOUR NOTES YOU ALREADY KNOW WHAT TIME IT ISSS Yes I’m back with this prompt because I love it so much and it basically summarizes my little daydream storylines I have in my mind about each character. Also note that I’m not caught up on the manga (but I do know all the spoilers hehe) so I apologize if any of this is inaccurate! (Yes I believe Gojo’s coming back so please pretend like the angst in his part isn’t alluding to his death being permanent. His body was successfully recovered and I’m coping with that fact)

ITADORI YUJI

I think Yuji would start to fall for you because when you first learned about Sukuna and Yuji being his vessel, you swore right then and there that you’d beat Sukuna’s ass and save Yuji. He was shocked at first because while that is the plan, no one had ever said it out loud to him like you did, and no one specifically ever said “I’ll save you.” He didn’t take it in a romantic sense but ever since you said it, he’s been getting closer and closer with you. You two always have a great time together and Sukuna never fails to make Yuji flustered by popping out and saying some random vulgar or violent jumble of words.

Yuji enjoys the lightheartedness you bring into his life, it’s refreshing like a spring breeze. It’s been much needed in his life recently and he appreciates your unplanned but good timing. He doesn’t like to worry people with his emotions because he’s such a genuine ray of sunshine. But, he will tell you about them when he finally breaks from time to time because he knows you’ll coax it out of him anyways. He tells you about his childhood and his grandpa and it breaks your heart that he sounds so content with his simple life despite barely having anyone close to him. You tell him that he’s so loved by everyone around him and he thanks you. It’s just that his death is constantly looming over his head and he has no idea what’s in store for him or his new loved ones. He wants to save everyone so badly and sometimes forgets about himself. That’s why he’ll never forget your promise to save him. He trusts that if he loses himself in some sort of sacrifice, that you’ll somehow rescue him. And that’s also why he’ll never break his silent promise to protect you for as long as he lives.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

I think Megumi would start to fall for you because of the care you put into everything you do, especially in how you treat others. You never fail to notice and treat your allies' wounds, even when they’re convincingly pretending like they’re fine. You always prioritize civilians during missions. You haven’t missed how his shikigami all have different personalities and different places they like to be pet. And you never miss it if Megumi’s feeling upset, you can somehow just tell by looking at him, even when others think he just looks mad like usual. Megumi knows your care for the little things is just how you express your desire to help others. The two of you mirror each other in that way. Megumi is the epitome of sacrificing oneself to protect their allies and it makes him smile when you mention that to him because he knows you’re exactly like him in that sense.

Megumi feels so relaxed around you because you just seem to understand him without needing him to explain. He’s gotten used to bottling everything up since he was young. He’s been forced to be an adult since he was a kid, understanding things that children shouldn’t even know about. It’s made his life feel cold, devoid of the warmth a child typically receives in their youth. He’s felt betrayed by all parental figures, his dad, his mom, and his step-mom. Even though Satoru tried his best and Megumi appreciates him, he couldn’t fully repair what he didn’t break. Megumi only really had his sister Tsumiki, but now even she’s unreachable and cursed. His life has warmed up slightly as he’s got found family now, but it’s really only you that makes the burning sun shine like it should in his life. As a sorcerer, he’s always worried that more lives will be taken from around him, especially yours. But he likes to joke and think that with the two of you constantly sacrificing yourselves for the other and getting stronger, you might just be okay.

GOJO SATORU

I think Satoru would start to fall for you because you don’t treat him like “the strongest,” you treat him like he’s human, like he’s just Satoru. Satoru has always faked a smile and you’ve always been able to figure him out. He’s been through so much and always struggled to make meaningful connections because of his powers. His family putting immense pressure on him as a child definitely didn’t help his emotional state either. He’s been so lonely his whole life and just as he starts to create a found family with his friends, he loses them. He doesn’t know what to do other than smile to make sure that those that are still alive don’t worry about him. But you see straight through him, you always have, and it comforts him. You’re the same age as him so you’ve been through it all with him since he started at jujutsu high. He started to fall for you at the start because even before all the additional trauma, you already wiggled your way past his emotional walls. He was always clearly too excited to see his friends, had so much love to give, and hated being alone. You thought it was obvious that he was hiding something and you approached him, asking if he was ok and if he wanted to talk about it. At first, he just laughed it off but as the months passed and your friendship grew, the more and more comfortable he was with telling you about his struggles.

Even now, you’re the only person he confides in about everything. You’ve always helped him back onto his feet after the world knocks him down. He might be the strongest sorcerer in the world, or maybe ever. But in his world, he’s never actually been stronger than you, you’re always the one helping him up anyways. He loves that you don’t treat him like most do. You’ve never catered to him or let up on lecturing him just because he’s strong. Additionally, you also never failed to make sure he felt loved, because you always knew that he was still just a kid on the inside that was forced to grow up too fast. Satoru fell for you willingly but has held off on confessing to you because he’s too scared to indulge himself while there’s still danger in the world. He wants to make the world safer for you, whether he’s there to see it with you or not. But he’s pretty sure he will, he is “the strongest” after all.

|| MASTERLIST <3 || Thank you for reading! ||