#gotta make sure I'm talking about the right one every time...

[nochepsicodelica]

You and Toji are sitting at a table at a bar, talking about different things that went on throughout your days over some drinks. Toji tells you about how Shiu's been a real asshole lately, because his marriage is hanging on by a thread and he hasn't gotten laid in almost a month. He gives you a look that you interpret as him saying 'thank fuck that's not us' to which you respond with a little smirk.

When it's your turn, you tell him about how the new hire broke the copy machine, knocked over and broke the water gallon for the water dispenser, and crashed into someone, spilling hot coffee all over their shirt, all in the course of one day.

"That poor fucker's cursed," Toji says, amusement riddling his expression as he brings his glass of whiskey to his lips.

"He looked like he really needed a hug by the end of the day," you add, biting back a smile, before you take a sip of your own drink.

"Tell me you didn't," Toji says, taking in the seemingly telling look on your face. "Ma."

"I'm kidding. It's jokes, baby. I have no interest in hugging someone I haven't spoken a single word to."

Toji flicks your forehead, watching with a grin as you bring a hand up to rub the sting away. "Gotta piss, be right back, doll. Want another drink before I come back?"

"I'll wait for you to finish yours," you say, to which he nods before standing up from his seat.

"Be right back," Toji repeats, affectionately setting a heavy hand on your head, before he heads off in the direction of the restrooms.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and scroll through your socials while you wait. Altogether, Toji was gone for no longer than four minutes, and yet somehow, that was enough time for a rando to pull a chair up to your little table and start a conversation with you.

"Hey," he starts. "Why are you sitting here looking all lonely?"

You turn your head to face the person with the unfamiliar voice, slightly widening your eyes as if to question if he's talking to you. He looks at you with raised eyebrows, awaiting your response. "Oh, i'm not here alone. My boyfriend is in the bathroom," you respond, with a polite smile, before returning your attention to your phone.

"Ah. What kind of man leaves a pretty thing like you by herself in a place like this?" The stranger says, in a tone that almost seems pitiful towards you.

You look at him again and attempt to keep your expression neutral. "He'll be back any second now. He's just taking a piss, i'll be fine. Unless you're here to make things troubling for me."

The man chuckles, entertained by your quick shift in tone. "With a feisty attitude like that and a pretty mouth to keep up, it seems like you want me to get you in trouble."

You furrow your eyebrows, blatantly offended by his inappropriate insinuation. It's disturbing to see how he turned your warning into something sexual.

"I already told you, I have a boyfriend. Try someone else," you respond, no longer hiding your irritation.

Toji scans the room for the table you're sitting at, locating you and who-the-fuck in three seconds. This man looks awfully cozy with you, leaning in close every time he speaks to you, so he doesn't stand around any longer and quickly makes his way back to you and this new "friend".

"You sure you don't want another drink, doll?" Toji asks, sitting down in front of you, again, his gaze darting between you and this pocket square looking man. There's a difference between your demeanor from before he left and now. You clearly aren't comfortable, anymore.

"That's it? That is your supposed boyfriend?" The man asks, attempting to minimize Toji by referring to him as if he's nothing in comparison to himself. "Oh, princess. You see this watch?" He asks, raising the cuff of his sleeve to fully reveal his golden watch. "Four thousand dollars, and that's chump change."

You look at Toji and pull his hand into your shaky one, giving him a forced smile. Toji keeps his eyes on yours as the stranger continues spewing arrogant sludge about how much money he makes a year and how even the luxury car he has parked outside didn't put the smallest dent in his wallet.

"You would have it so good with me, baby," he continues blabbering. His hand goes to your wrist, a gesture that Toji quickly puts an end to by aggressively shoving the man's hand away, your empty glass clattering on the table from the force. Toji would have snapped the man's wrist and twisted his hand off, but he didn't want to scare you with the bloodshed. He feels like he's buzzing from the anger bubbling inside, and surely it won't be long before he acts out.

"Don't fucking touch her," Toji spits, glaring at the man with an expression that would have put him six feet under, if looks could kill.

Your heartbeat is in your ears and your blood is boiling. This man is disgusting for being persistent towards someone who doesn't want him. It's masochism, at this point, with the amount of times that you've made it clear that you're not interested.

The man snorts, snobbishly. "He brought you here, of all places. Even just glancing at him, you can tell this cheap ass place is all he can afford. He'll never be able to give you everything you want, so just come with me, doll face."

You rip your hand out of Toji's grasp and stand from your chair, delivering a resounding blow to the man's already hideous face. Tables and chairs wobble as he tries to keep his balance, but when you quickly strike him again, hard enough to increase the pain you felt in your knuckles with that first hit, you manage to knock him onto the ground.

"Fuck you, you fucking asshole. You don't know shit!" You grit out, dropping down to try and land another hit to the man's bleeding face. By now, Toji is behind you, restraining your arms and pulling you back as a small crowd begins to form to observe the commotion.

"Ma, come on. Let's just go."

"Let me dent his fucking face in, Toji," you mutter, writhing in his grip.

The vile man manages to sit up, dabbing his fingertips against his busted lip. Though there is red blossoming on his face, his lips still form an amused, twisted smile. He laughs as he watches you get reeled back by Toji, seething as you are dragged away like a child having a meltdown in the middle of a store.

"Hey-- Hey, I said let's go," Toji says, his tone sharper when you continue to try to break out of his hold to fight the idiotic sociopath.

You take a deep breath and stop, willingly letting Toji take you away from this chaos you created in his defense. His hand rests on the nape of your neck, as he guides you through the stuffy bar and leads you outside to the car.

"Stop pacing," Toji says, watching as you threaten to make the asphalt beneath your feet waste away with every step you take in your heated state.

"Fucking asshole, dickhead, motherfucker." You groan, loudly, furiously, before covering your face with your hands. "It's fine, it's fine," you mumble to yourself.

"Then, stop pacing," he repeats, watching on as you walk the same steps, over and over, as if you're on autopilot. "Ma, eyes. Eyes." His hands go to your shoulders, manually forcing you to halt your movement. "Listen to me. I said eyes."

"I'm so... I can't stand still," you say, weakly.

"Stop looking around. Right here," Toji instructs, lifting one hand from your shoulder and pointing two fingers at his eyes. You release a shaky puff of air and hold his gaze as best as you can.

"Talk when you're ready," he says, following your eyes whenever they derail from his.

You aren't ready soon enough. You feel like your heart is trying to burst out of your chest and the adrenaline coursing through you isn't helping at all. Your hand hurts. Your knuckles feel bruised and they're bloody. The night might be ruined, but you felt your reaction was the only way to release the pain you felt when that nothing started talking the way he did about Toji. All you can think to do is hug Toji to prevent yourself from crying about your cause for attacking the gross man. It's all so much. You've never felt so strongly for someone, to the point where you hit a stranger for insulting them. It's scary how Toji brings that defensive, yet, offensive side out of you.

Strong, heavy arms reciprocate your embrace, keeping your tense body close. You feel warm and safe, his scent and the pressure of his hold managing to slowly calm your unsteady heartbeat. After a few seconds of quietness, you turn your head and rest the side of your face on him, finally prepared to speak.

"I didn't like how he was talking about you, Toji. He was talking shit even before you came back, and I hated it. I hated it so much, that I felt nauseous and if I hadn't done something, I would have been sick."

Toji sighs, not out of disappointment or feelings of that sort, but because you seeking out danger for his sake, was not something he ever wanted to see.

"Doll, you know how much I love you."

This sounds like a layer of sugar preceding a talking to. You're trying not to be nervous before the scolding even begins, but you feel the need to brace yourself, as well.

"I love you, too," you mumble.

Toji knows it. He's known it all along, and the events that transpired tonight were just another way of you proving your love and showing how much he matters to you.

"Want you to look at me," he says, lowering his arms on your back, allowing you to make the space necessary to give him your attention. He offers you a soft smile. "Don't get all fidgety on me after you just ripped a stranger's face open."

"I feel like you're about to yell at me," you say, lowly.

That makes him want to laugh, but he keeps his amusement to a minimum, since you're clearly anticipating something terrible.

"Nah. When have I ever raised my voice at you?"

"Never."

"Exactly. Never, and I won't start now, but I want you to get this through your pretty head... It's not your job to beat people up for me."

"I know, but-"

Toji shakes his head. "Hold on, mama. Let me finish talking, then it'll be your turn."

Your heart feels like it's in the depths of your stomach, but you nod, and allow him to continue talking.

"I'm not mad at you, i'm not gonna yell at you. Just wanna keep you safe, is all. That guy was already a fuckin' weirdo, harassing you like that and trying to get you to go with him while I was right there. I wouldn't be surprised if he was into hitting women, too, if he's so comfortable with making them uncomfortable."

It's quiet while you think of what to say. You don't want this to escalate into something that turns you against each other, when it started out as an act of love. You could argue about how you did this to defend him, but in the end, you know his own need to protect you, will stomp all over your arguments.

"I'm sorry we had to leave, but i'm not sorry for the reason behind it. I don't regret what I did."

"Ma..."

"No, Toji. He didn't even know you and yet he still said things that aren't fair." Your voice quiets down, the beginnings of stronger emotions threatening to outwardly reveal themselves. "He insulted you. He questioned your abilities as my boyfriend when he saw me alone— even after I told him you just went to the bathroom. He judged you superficially, he said you can't give me everything I want and--" you pause, interrupted by a shaky inhale and the painful lump in your throat. "Sorry," you mumble, when the first set of tears roll down your cheeks.

"No, you're alright," Toji says, in response, his warm hands coming up to cup your cheeks, thumbs wiping away your fleeing tears. There's a small pinch in his brows. Why are you crying? It's something he can't ask you, because he knows that if he makes a big spectacle out of it, you'll end up drowning in your tears and shutting down everything you have to say. He resorts to keeping your cheeks dry and encouraging you to keep talking.

"Go on, mama."

You sniff, before picking up where you left off. "I don't care about all that, Toji. I don't care where we go to spend time together, because we're together. I need you, not for you to buy me things or take me to fancy places. That's not what I'm with you for."

Your heart is beating fast, again, its rhythm no longer controlled by fear or nerves, but instead the focus that Toji has on you. He's good at holding eye contact with you, something that occasionally gets distracting if you become too aware of it. You notice that his expression is softer. Maybe it's your brief flash of tears or the way you are always subconsciously finding a way to indirectly recite some of the reasons for why you love him.

"I love you, Toji. That means I won't just sit around and let someone talk about you like you're worthless. And I know, I know you can handle things like this on your own and you don't need me, but it was hard to listen to that."

You pause, as if to give him a break from your bulldozing heart. Silence takes over the moment, both of you just looking at each other. Toji's speechlessness has you wondering if you spilled too much of your heart out to him. You know some things are better left to be figured out, such as the range of a person's love, and yet you just poured without measure. "You can call me crazy if you want to."

Toji's shit-eating grin is unexpected, but it's definitely a sight that lifts some of the heaviness you feel in your chest.

"You love me," Toji says, still smiling like a doofus. He knows your serious facade will crack if he looks at you like this for long enough. He can already see a shift in the expression of your eyes and the way your lips are pressing together just a little more. He tilts his head slightly, a gesture that pushes you even further towards that pretty smile he wants to see. When you finally crack and give into his charm, you do so with a mutter of 'you're so dumb.'

"I'm glad that's what you got out of my rambling," you say, wholeheartedly and in better spirits. Toji pulls you in, this time, his soothing warmth and familiar scent tangling around you, again. His chin rests on top of your head and his arms secure themselves around you, tightly.

"I'm not gonna call you crazy, ma. It's not what I think. Also, don't go saying things that aren't true. I do need you," Toji says, his voice level kept at an intimate volume, as if there are other people there in the parking lot with you. His words are solely meant for you to hear anyway and getting them to you in this manner ensures that you won't go home with your heart feeling heavy, after a talk that was meant to comfort you.

"You know, I don't care what other people think— and that's not to say I don't appreciate you throwing a few punches for my sake. You're a sweetheart and you care so much, but if it's a stranger saying some unimportant, dumb shit, it takes a lot for it to actually get to me. If it really bothered me, they'd be gone."

"Yeah... I know," you mumble, into his shirt, knowing you would do it again and again— countless times. You loosen your arms around Toji and he does the same, his hands dragging towards your waist after you separate.

"How's that hand?" Toji asks, picking your wrist up before you can even respond. He whistles at the sight of the slight swelling and the dry specks of crimson spotted over your knuckles.

"A little tender," you say, feeling a tinge of fear when his other hand lifts off your waist to feel the damage.

"Looks real good on your pretty hand," he says, dragging his index finger over the protruding bones of your hand.

"Does it?" You ask, your barely there smile falling when you wince at the little bit of pressure Toji applies.

"No," he responds, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a kiss to the sore area. You wince again when his thumb drags over your skin with slightly more pressure than before. "It doesn't. We'll ice it when we get home, alright?" He lets up on the torturous touching, but keeps your hand in his. The words aren't meant to hurt you. He doesn't mean them and he hopes he communicates that with the way he still opts to hold your hand. Your hands will always be pretty to him, he just can't say that to you, right now. Not if it serves as the smallest bit of encouragement for you to repeat what happened earlier, in the future.

"Okay." You nod.

"Gimme a kiss and we can go home or wherever, if you wanna stay out."

You tilt your head up and wait for his lips to meet yours. It's a gentle brush of lips, but the second Toji's hands start slipping under the back of your sweater and your shirt, you know it's going to be more than a single kiss. You can feel the night's cold wind nipping at your skin, as his hands go higher up, his fingertips reaching just below the hooks of your bra. To your surprise, he unhooks the garment, causing you to quickly press your hands to your chest when the cups loosen, to prevent them from fully sliding down.

"Toji," you manage to utter out during the wave of kisses. You turn your head, receiving a kiss that was meant for your lips, on your cheek.

"Yeah... I think we should go home," he murmurs, against your skin. "Maybe we can rock the car a little bit before we go, hm?" Toji smirks when you let out that flustered giggle he's so familiar with. He presses another kiss to your cheek before you turn to face him, again.

"Okay, but let's not blow it all here. We have a nice and comfortable bed at home. Let's add another good night to it."

You don't miss the way Toji's lustfully lidded, green eyes, keep glancing down at your hands on your chest, or how he's mindlessly caressing your bare waist, under your shirt.

"Alright, ma." He pulls out his car keys and with the press of a button, the car unlocks with a beep and the brief, dull sound of flipping locks. "Get inside."

[dreamscapeee222]

(I'm new to tumblr, sorry if I'm posting in the wrong place, I hope this is ask box)

I asked you to write about the relationship between the arcane characters and the reader who is very thin due to some health problems?

(Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my native language)

A/n: Hello!! I did lots of research with your request so I hope my work satisfies what you had in mind ^^

You deal with health problems that affect your weight

Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

Masterlist

Vi

She’s not the type to pry. But she notices the little things—the way you don’t finish your meals, the way you curl up a little too tightly, like you're trying to protect yourself from the world. She never asks you about it, but she always makes sure you’ve got something to eat or drink when she knows you’re struggling.

She might drop a sandwich by your side, or hand you a water bottle without saying a word. It’s just her way of saying, “I see you,” without actually saying it.

If you ever get quiet for too long, she’ll be there, sitting next to you without forcing a conversation. It’s not about pushing you to talk—it’s just her letting you know you’re not alone, even in those silent moments.

Jinx

Jinx doesn’t always understand why you’re not at your best, but she feels it. She’s a whirlwind of chaos, always trying to keep you distracted, to keep you laughing. She doesn’t always get it right, but she’s trying, you can tell by the way she keeps pulling you into her nonsense, hoping that a little of her madness will rub off on you.

But there are times when she looks at you, and the mask slips for just a second. She sees how tired you are, how empty you seem sometimes, and in those moments, she doesn’t know how to fix it. But she doesn’t turn away. “You don’t gotta do this alone, okay?” she says, voice softer than usual. It’s a rare vulnerability, the one moment where she lets down the wall and shows you she’s scared too.

She might not know what to say or do, but she’ll always bring something to make you smile—even if it’s just a little.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn’s the quiet type, always paying attention to the little things that others might miss. She watches you—never in a way that feels overbearing, but in a way that shows she’s aware of when something’s off.

She doesn’t press you to talk, but she’ll always offer a gentle reminder that she’s there for you—whether that’s by quietly handing you a cup of tea, leaving a snack where you can easily reach it, or making sure you have time to rest.

She never pushes, but when you catch her looking at you with those soft, patient eyes, you know she’s not going anywhere. "Take it easy,” she says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. And for a moment, you actually believe it’s okay to slow down.

Ekko

Ekko’s the type of person who’s there without being too much. He notices when you’re pushing yourself too hard, and when he sees the signs—when you’re too quiet, when you’re too weak to do what you usually can—he’ll just quietly step in.

He won’t make a fuss, and he won’t ask you if you’re okay every five minutes. Instead, he’ll bring you a blanket when he sees you shivering, a drink when you look like you haven’t had one all day. He knows you don’t need someone to tell you what to do—you just need someone to make sure you don’t fall apart while you're doing it all.

Sometimes, he’ll sit beside you and not say a word. It’s just his presence, calm and steady, and it’s enough to make you feel like maybe everything will be okay. “You’re not alone,” he’ll say without looking at you. And it’s not just words—it’s his way of making sure you never feel like you’re fighting your battles by yourself.

Jayce

Jayce doesn’t know how to make things better when it’s you, and that frustration shows. He wants to fix things, to find the right answer, and he’s always throwing himself into research, into getting you the best treatment, the right food, whatever he thinks might help. But sometimes, it feels like he’s pushing you harder than you want, trying to make everything better without realizing that maybe what you need is just some quiet.

He doesn’t always know how to slow down, but there are times when you catch him looking at you, his expression softening when he sees the exhaustion in your eyes. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he says, and for once, it doesn’t come off as a demand. It’s a plea—something raw and real in the way he says it.

When you’re too tired to argue, he’ll just stay next to you, offering comfort in his own way. It’s not perfect, but you know he’s trying, and that’s enough for now.

Viktor

Viktor doesn’t say much, but his care shows in everything he does. When he sees you struggling, he doesn’t push you to talk about it. Instead, he quietly takes action—he makes sure your space is organized, makes sure you have what you need, even when you don’t ask for it.

You won’t hear him say, “I’m here for you,” but you’ll feel it in the way he adjusts your pillow without asking, or in the way he slides a cup of tea your way without a word. He’s not the type to crowd you, but he’s always making sure you’re okay in ways that don’t demand attention.

When you do catch him looking at you, there’s a softness in his eyes—an unspoken understanding. “You don’t have to be strong all the time,” he’ll say quietly, but it’s not just the words that matter. It’s the way he’s already got your back without needing you to ask.

Mel

Mel is the kind of person who knows how to give space without making you feel like you’re invisible. She’s quiet, observant, and when she sees that something’s not right, she’s there—but never in a way that feels like she’s pushing you.

Her care is in the little things—the cup of tea she hands you when you’re not feeling great, the soft touch of her hand on your arm as she sits beside you, giving you time to breathe. She doesn’t expect anything from you, just that you take care of yourself in your own time.

She’ll always remind you that it’s okay to slow down, to rest. “You don’t have to do it all at once,” she’ll say, and the gentleness in her voice makes it feel like everything else can wait. She’ll be there, waiting, until you’re ready to come back to the world.

Requests may be sent through the ask box. Only SFW.

[the-himawari]

A3! Magazine Interview Translation - B’s-LOG March 2024 [Cover Boys Interview]

The true faces of today’s flourishing young actors

This month’s cover features Hyodo Kumon & Izumida Azami. Azami didn’t have any particular school he wanted to go to. So when Kumon invited over him to Tsukushi High School, the two became senior and junior. The two of them show close they are by walking to and from school and eating lunch on the rooftop together.

We bring you a newly written interview that provides a closer glimpse of their true faces.

*Please read disclaimer on blog

---

Q: Do you have anything that’s been important to you since childhood?

Kumon: Since childhood, huh~? Ah! I thought of something!

Azami: What is it?

Kumon: A home run ball from my favourite baseball player! One day when I was little, I was watching a game at the stadium. While I was cheering as hard as I could, it flew right by me and I caught it.

Azami: Oh, that’s pretty amazin’. That’s not something you can get no matter how many times you go.

Kumon: Exactly! Do you have anything like that, Azami?

Azami: I’ve… always had a cheek brush with me. It’s kinda like my good luck charm.

Kumon: Ooh, right. I know which one you’re talking about!

Azami: Yeah, I’ve used it on you before.

Q: Would you rather be called “cool” or “cute”?

Kumon: I’d definitely be happier being called cool! You’re the same right, Azami!?

Azami: If it’s between those two choices, then I guess it doesn’t really matter what you call me. But I don’t like it when people call me cute to tease me. I hope they'll quit doing that.

Kumon: Now that you mention it, Azuma-san calls you cute every now and then, right? Like it’s so cute and innocent how you immediately get embarrassed whenever you talk about love.

Azami: That’s why I keep tellin’ him to quit it.

Kumon: That doesn’t make you happy?

Azami: Azuma-san is totally just makin’ fun of me.

Kumon: Eh~? I don’t think he’s teasing you though. I think he genuinely means it.

Q: Tell us the truth. Are you actually a scaredy-cat?

Azami: Nah, not really.

Kumon: Me neither! Actually, Azami and I went to a haunted house together the other day!

Azami: Right, Kumon said he wanted to go to one outta nowhere.

Kumon: I thought it’d be interesting so I invited Azami and we went right away. That haunted house was loads of fun!

Azami: Well. I guess I’m glad I went since I could use their makeup as reference.

Kumon: Maybe I’ll go with Summer troupe next time!? Ah, I wonder if they’d come though…

Azami: It wouldn’t hurt to try invitin’ them. …I can’t say for sure that all the members would go though.

Q: How would you confess? In-person, by phone, or by LIME?

Azami: H-HUH!? Who the hell would answer that!!

Kumon: It’s fine, it’s fiiine! By the way, I’d do it face-to-face for sure! I’d like to see their face as I tell them and make sure I'm getting my feelings across properly.

Azami: …I see.

Kumon: C’mon, Azami. How about you?

Azami: I’m not gonna say. Lay off me! Get to the next question already!

Kumon: I sure wonder when we’re gonna get to hear Azami talk about this stuff~.

Q: When you’re on a date… would you hold hands, link arms, or do something else?

Azami: Another question like this? You gotta be kidding me!

Kumon: Now, now. Chill out, Azami! Considering the distance with my girlfriend… I guess I’d like to hold hands. But I bet both are out for Azami! So for him, it’d be “something else”?

Azami: Hey, why’re you answering for me without askin’?

Kumon: I knew you wouldn’t answer so I figured I’d say something for you!

Azami: This isn’t somethin’ you talk about with other people!

Kumon: You weren’t saying anything though. You gotta give an answer here! For the Azami in my mind, I don't think he’d be interested in doing PDA outside—or rather, I don’t think he’d be able to do it in the first place… Ah, you see, Azami’s a serious guy! But I’m sure there’s someone out there who’ll say they like that about you!

Azami: Uh, why am I being encouraged right now…?

Kumon:: Anywho, what do you really think? Did my answer hit it out of the park?

Azami: Urk, don’t fricken ask me! No comment!

---

[zepskies]

Ahaha that is a great gif @lamentationsofalonelypotato! Diving into the rest of your lovely comments...

I mean, I'm sad that it's coming to a close, but I'm hoping that in the future there might be a fic with a little Elijah (or a little Jude) running around. 😏

I was also sad to get to the end, but tbh I still had ideas even after writing the ending. So you might be on to something there with a little Elijah... 😘

I love the little details about him and Benny pranking each other, but it really just made me sad because Dean left them 😭 But at the same time they are opening up with one another and sharing their life stories and I couldn't be happier.

It's bittersweet, isn't it? 🥲 On the one hand, bonding. On the other hand, it's a memory of everything Dean's left behind.

Again I stan a strong woman and Mila is just so stinking badass that I love her so much. Also yes girl, PROTECT 👏🏻 YOUR👏🏻 MAN👏🏻

Hahaa I love her too!! 🥰 100% She's gotta protect her man, even if she's not totally sure he should be her man yet. 😝

Love that you're referencing the honorable choice title here, and showing that Dean is a man of honor and that he did make a choice that maybe messed up his life, but he cared more about doing the right thing. And I think you did a great job of titling the series and the chapters in general. Each one corresponds beautifully to the themes in the chapters so you should be proud!

Aw thank you so much!! I try my best to create meaningful story titles and chapter titles, and making room for those moments that reflect the major themes of the story. "Choice" is of course the biggest theme in this story, as it could be for every story--characters making decisions that push the story forward and help define their character.

I know that something dramatic is about to happen and that I shouldn't be thinking about this right now, but I just love height difference so much😭. When a guy is bigger than his girl oh wow it sends me to the moon. I think it's so cute and goodness the cuddles must be so fun.

LOL I love it!! I absolutely love the height difference thing too. 😏 I'd imagine the spooning is the best!

Again, devastating moment, but... SHE SAID HIS NAME FOR THE FIRST TIME! And the running her fingers through his hair?!?!?!?!

She said his name for the first time!! That moment after the river was probably my favorite scene to write, since it's the first time they truly explore their connection. 🥰

I'm cackling. I love Mila so much. The sass, the teasing. Oh goodness they're so cute and I am so scared that there's going to be a last minute perilous situation and somebody is gonna die.

Ahaha don't be too scared! I'm all about happy endings, and I'm so glad you're loving their dynamic. 💜

Also him respecting her when she said that she doesn't have sex before marriage is just so HONORABLE AND WORTHY and why can't there be men that respectful all the time? Dean Winchester is really just ruining other men for me everywhere. 😭

Ughh right?? Dean is just a Good Man, no matter how much he doesn't see it in himself sometimes.

So... the face squishing is a family trait I see. But man, Dean standing there while a random lady just squishing his face while his eyes are wide in horror is so funny to me.

Ahaha I'm so glad you caught that! It was such a funny visual to me too, and I felt like it was something that would happen to Dean. 😂

This bit is so good. It's so true and honest and a little heart breaking, but it's such a wonderful thing for them to talk about, because Mila knows that he's thrown away his life to save hers. And it's so wonderful that he's able to give her that confirmation and reassurance that he doesn't regret the choice he made. Because it was the right choice, the -AHEM- Honorable Choice lol 😂

Aww thank you. There are a lot of bittersweet moments in this, and this is one of them. But like you said, I felt it was important for them to have this moment where she acknowledges what he's done for her, as well as gauging if he holds any resentment. Of course, Dean doesn't regret his choice. 😉

Oh this chapter was so good my sweet friend! I'm a little sad to see that it's ending, but it was so wonderfully written and neither of them died. I was really scared about that 😅. AND it ended with a wedding (sort of?). Now little Elijah can run around the camp helping his mother and learn how to break in horses with his father. ❤️

Thank you very, very much my wonderful friend!! 😭 I'm too much of a hopeless romantic to have either Dean or Mila die. I researched into wedding customs for the Lakota people at this time, and apparently until Christianity reached their culture, they didn't have formal "weddings" in the sense that we know them today. It was more of, as long as the man got the blessing of the woman's father (and gave a nice gift), the couple would pair off and from then on live together as husband and wife.

Safe to say, Dean didn't get the chance to go about that custom lol, but there are other cultural elements I would want to explore in future chapters--along with them having a kid!! I LOVE the idea of Dean finding his role in the tribe by helping take care of/break in the horses. 💕💕

Thank you again so much for reading!

The Honorable Choice - Part 3

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 

Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.

AN: The last chapter! Hold on, it's about to get bumpy...

Disclaimer: I got inspired after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (literally a perfect movie), as well as having Yellowstone in the back of my brain. I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.

**Pronunciation guide at the end!

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: @jacklesversebingo Western AU

Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack

Word Count: 5.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Protective Dean, survival situations, smut (mutual masturbation, fingering, and more), angst, and fluff.

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

🎙️ Listen to the podfic version here!

Part 3: Worthy

They travel together for two more days. Dean isn’t really a talkative man, but inevitably, he finds himself speaking to fill the comfortable stretches of quiet plodding across the grasslands.

He tells her about growing up on his family’s farm, where his father was firm but fair, and a larger-than-life presence when Sam and Dean were kids. His mother though, she was the only one who could ever go toe to toe with John Winchester and win.

“She tamed him,” Mila remarks with a smile. Dean’s lips quirk in response.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he chuckles, “but he knew he couldn’t pull a whole lot of shit with Mom. She’s a real pistol when she’s gotta be.”

Talking about them makes his heart heavy and sobers his mood, so he deflects with other stories, other chapters of his life. 

He talks about going through basic training alongside Benny Lafitte. As privates, Dean pranked his friend by filling his lumpy old pillow with raw eggs and chicken feathers. In retaliation, Benny swapped Dean’s morning coffee with actual dirt and hot water. Their boyish games escalated until they were nearly kicked out of the military.

Dean managed to smooth things over though. He’s always had a way of charming people, even the gruff Sergeant Major, Bobby Singer.

Mila admits that she and her cousin Šóta used to sneak out of the village when they were younger. He taught her how to climb trees, how to fight and protect herself, and how to ride a horse astride, like a man. He was the only one who ever encouraged her to have the “free mind” her mother dreamed about.

The more she confides in him, her eyes sparking with life and her hands gesticulating along with her words, the more Dean listens.  

On the third day, it’s nearing mid-afternoon when Dean slows Baby to a stop. After miles and miles of forest and grassland covered, they’ve finally approached a large, wide river. Mila stops beside him.

“My tribe lives beyond the river,” she says, “but the current is strong now.”

Dean looks over at her. A question he hasn’t wanted to ask crops back up. He feels that now is the time to voice it.

“Yeah, about that…I’m thinking your tribe doesn’t take very well to outsiders,” he says. “White men in particular.”

Mila presses her lips together. He can tell she’s been thinking the same thing, but she turns to him with a determined set to her features.

“I will protect you,” she says.

Dean frowns. He doesn’t like the sound of that. On one hand, it warms him that she seems to really mean it. On the other hand, he doesn’t want to know what it’ll take for her to protect him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

She turns her face away and doesn’t seem to want to answer at first.

“Mila…”

“The Chief is my uncle,” she says at last. “He will listen to me.”

Dean blinks. Well, that changes things…maybe.

He’s still not convinced, but at this point, he really doesn’t have many options. It’s either take his chances with her tribe, or become a vagabond. He’s not sure how long he could survive in wilds of the West alone, especially while trying to dodge military patrols.

In the past three days, it’s taken Dean all that time to come to terms with a simple fact. He’ll likely never see his brother again, or his mother. It’s a pain that cuts into him deeply, down to his bones. It stings behind his eyes.

But if he only has two choices, then he at least wants to make sure Mila gets home safely…even if that means he won’t be.

He’s come this far. If his career is worth the price of what he feels is right, then his life is worth it too.

With that decision made, Dean expels a long, somewhat faltering breath. He locks away the rest of his uncertainty, his apprehension, and even his grief. He hides deep inside, where she won’t see it. 

“All right, the current doesn’t look too bad over here,” he says, pointing to farther north along the river. “The horses can make it.”

Mila nods in agreement. She still looks uneasy, though she tries to hide it too. She ventures ahead into the river. Dean follows close behind.

The water is shallow at first, but it all too quickly gets deeper. The horses plod over the river stones and vegetation under the surface, and the humans are led deeper, until they’re submerged into the water up to their waists.

It’s good that Mila rides that giant mustang; if she were on a mare, like Dean, she’d already be sunk up to her shoulders. Baby’s a big girl, to be sure, but Mila is nearly a foot shorter than him, with a smaller frame. He watches her carefully as she makes her way ahead of him.

That’s why he’s able to act fast when Mato slips, dunking Mila under the water. She gasps and tries to cling onto him, but the current is fierce. It pushes Mato down the river no matter how much he scrambles and kicks at the water, braying wildly in distress.

Shit! Dean tugs sharply at Baby’s reigns and strives to catch up to them. He grabs Mato’s reigns and pulls and pulls, until he and Baby are able to drag him to the other side of the river where he can get a foothold with his hooves.

Mila is starting to fall off his back. She struggles to cling on while the river pushes at her, with her wet hair falling in her eyes. Dean leans back as far as he can to try and pull her up.

“It’s okay, I’ve gotcha,” he calls out, even though his heart hammers with alarm.

She reaches out for his hand in turn. Just as his fingers begin to close over hers, a wave from the current crashes into her. A short scream tears from her throat after she loses her grip on Mato’s neck. Without her weight, he’s able to pull himself back up onto the bank along with Baby.

Damn it! Gut-wrenching alarm spears Dean into action. He leaps down from Baby and removes his gloves, his hat, and his uniform jacket, so he can dive into the water. Thank God he’s a strong swimmer.

Mila seems to be too. She carves through the water against the current the best she can and tries to keep her head above the waves, but Dean can see it’s a losing battle. He manages to grab hold of her arm, and then wraps an arm around her waist to keep her close. Both of them work together to try and cling to any passing rock or low-hanging vine as the current sweeps them out toward an ultimate end.

A waterfall.

Of course. Goddamn it. Dean doesn’t know how steep it is on the other side, and he doesn’t want to know. All he’s trying to do is keep himself and Mila above the water.

She hooks her hand around a sharp rock. It bites into her hand, making her cry out, but she clings to it for all she’s worth. She holds onto Dean just as tightly, even though the current wants to take him. She tries to pull him closer, close enough for him to get a hold on the rock as well.

This time, it’s Dean who loses his footing. The rocks slip beneath the soles of his feet when he attempts to gain some leverage.

A shout of surprise escapes from him when he fails, and it gets swallowed up by water rushing down his throat.

“Dean!” Mila yells, for the first time using his name. The last thing he registers is the fear in her eyes—afraid for him.

The river takes him over the edge of the abyss, and he falls.

He never expected that he would get to open his eyes again, let alone to the sight that greets him. Mila’s familiar face, framed by the dark, drying waves of her hair, is bright with firelight. It dances in orange-gold across her features. Her eyes are warm like rich molasses when she looks down and finds him awake.

She smiles in relief.

He realizes that he’s lying on soft grass with his head pillowed in her lap. She’s taken off his boots and half of his white undershirt; she tore one of his sleeves to wrap around a mercifully shallow gash in his shoulder.

The horses are drinking from the river nearby, with a pile of apples split between them. There’s a fish roasted over the fire, but all Dean cares about is the way her fingers are running through his hair. She sings a soft song under her breath while she passes her other hand over his injured arm without touching it.

He doesn’t understand the words, but he thinks she might be trying to heal him. He’s heard plenty of stories about the Sioux people, most he’s taken with a grain of salt. He does remember Cas saying that their healers are different from doctors.  

Dean’s never given their hoodoo much thought, but right about now, he hopes it works.

“Mornin’,” he croaks.

Mila’s relieved face becomes touched with amusement.

“It’s night,” she says. “You slept for a long time.”

Dean wants to sit up and take an inventory of his injuries, but he can’t make his body move just yet. He’s too tired and bruised. He also likes being in her arms. He likes her fingers in his hair, now moving to his cheek. He sighs through his nose in contentment as her thumb drifts over his overgrown stubble. 

“Thank you,” she says. Emotion is thick in her voice.

Dean meets her eyes again, and he smiles. He raises the back of his hand to touch her smooth cheek, gently. He lets his fingers glide across her tan skin, down the column of her neck. Her breath hitches.

She takes his calloused hand in her slender one. Her long hair falls like a curtain over her shoulder, almost like it’s shielding them from whatever is left to come for them beyond the forest. Dean wraps an ebony strand around his finger, just to feel it fall loosely again.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he says.

Mila graces him with another smile from her lips. He wants to know what they taste like.

“I guess you are pretty, for a White Man,” she says teasingly.

Her fingers trace his brow, his jawline, even the tip of his chin. She seems to be avoiding his plush mouth, even though her gaze keeps dropping there. Dean pretends to frown.

“Sweetheart, that’s not the way you talk about a man,” he says.

Her brows raise. “No?”

“Handsome. Strong. Toothsome, if you will,” he says, enjoying the way she begins to blush. “That’s what you wanna call a man.”

“Toothsome. I don’t know this word,” she admits. “Am I supposed to eat you?”

Dean resists the urge to say the first incorrigible thing that pops into his head. Instead, his body shakes with laughter.

It’s difficult at first, all his muscles pulling at him in protest, but he raises himself into a sitting position. He cups Mila’s cheek, dragging his thumb across her lower lip. Her lashes are dark and long. They move when she looks up at him. He knows the look in her eyes, wanting, desiring, but also unsure of what she should allow him.

Dean leans in slowly, giving her time to decide.

She tilts her face up to his. He noses at her cheek, his eyes falling closed along with hers.

He finds her lips with his own on instinct and feeling alone. Soft and tender movements, testing, asking.

She answers him. Her fingers tangle in the front of his tattered shirt as her lips begin to move against his. Dean wraps an arm around her waist and gathers her against his chest. His other hand glides down her arm, down her side and along every soft curve. Her clothes are still damp, and so are his.

“It’ll be faster to dry our clothes if we’re not wearing ‘em,” Dean rumbles. His voice is deep with desire. He presses kisses along the side of her jaw, behind her ear, down her neck and shoulder. He earns her pleased hum, her heavier breaths, and her fingers once again in his hair.

“I can’t,” she gasps. She says something in her native tongue, too fast for Dean to even register. He slows down so he can meet her eyes.

“What was that?” he asks. Her face falls, and she starts to trip over her words.

“I am not…how you say, married. I have to be…”

Dean smiles ruefully, sliding a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Chaste?” he offers. She nods, her brows furrowed. Her grip on his shirt tightens.

“Yes,” she says. “In the eyes of my people, it is…”

“I get it,” Dean says. When she still seems conflicted, he presses a kiss to her forehead. 

“Really, I understand,” he says.

His problem is that he stares into her eyes too long, and at her kiss-swollen lips. He dives back in for another taste.

This time, he’s a little less gentlemanly than he promised. His tongue sweeps along her lower lip, begging entrance. She makes a sound of surprise, but she opens up to him. Her gentle hands slide up his chest to hold his face, and her thumbs stroke his cheeks. He holds one of her wrists to keep her there as his tongue dances with hers. She tastes like the river, and like salty tears.

Had she cried for him? How long did she sit with his body, waiting to see if he would wake up?

Despite those worrying thoughts, Dean knows this feels right. More right than he’s ever felt.

It’s harder than he might’ve imagined, but he still pulls away, before he won’t be able to stop himself. Mila pants for breath. She seems to feel she should let him go, but also doesn’t show any sign of wanting to. Smiling, Dean caresses her cheek one more time before he turns to the fish she roasted.

“This looks good,” he says, clearing his throat. “What kinda fish is this?”

With a sigh, she attempts to steady herself and moves to join him by the fire.

That night, Mila dreams.

She dreams of wings, white and beautiful. She hears the cry of an eagle before she sees his great wingspan take off in flight. He soon finds his mate, and they dance together in the sky. 

When she wakes, the fire has gone out and it’s still dark in the night. It takes her a moment to realize that she’s safe. Finally safe.

And she’s lying securely in Dean’s arms.

She’s no longer conflicted when she stares up at his face.

She will bring him home to her tribe, and she will explain. If they still don’t welcome him, then she prays for the strength to keep to her honor. Because now, she begins to realize…

Her heart has already chosen.

“Kimmímila, what have you done?” her uncle asks in the language of their people.

He is Tahatan, Chief of their tribe.

Mila’s father, Chatan, and her cousin Šóta have tied Dean Winchester to a post in the center of the Chief’s large tipi. Dean kneels with his head bowed in respect, even though he keeps sneaking looks at Mila to try and gauge what’s happening. He doesn’t understand a word of any of it.

“You’ve brought this outsider into our village, this White Man!” Tahatan shouts, his voice deep and resounding.

Mila steps forward, despite her mother’s embarrassment and her father trying to grab her shoulder. For the second time in her life, she defies her father for what she believes is right. The first was to rescue a member of their tribe—because even a horse’s spirit should not be broken by greed.

“Uncle, I’ve told you the story, though you don’t want to believe it,” she says. “Dean Winchester saved me when he could have killed me, or worse. He defied his own people. He is dead to his own people, for me, and because of me. You may think they lack all honor, but this man is different.”

She looks over at Dean, and he meets her gaze. He wears an anxious frown as he looks between her and the chief, but she has a feeling that his fear is for her, not for himself.

She kneels beside him, then looks up at her uncle with all the stubbornness she’s ever possessed in her life. She feels it’s led her to exactly this moment.

“And we are one,” she says. Nerves trill up her spine as she says it. She predicts the way shock falls over the room. The way her father curses out loud, angry. The way her mother covers her mouth in dismay. The way the Chief takes a step back, tilting his head at his niece.

“You would take it that far?” he asks.

Her face doesn’t change. “It’s already done.”

Tahatan is beside himself, both angry and perplexed. He goes back to his chair of wicker and wood that lies centered in the room. He drops heavily into it. After a long while, in which he thinks in silence…he releases a heavy sigh. He gestures for his brother and his son to untie Dean. The men do so, but they don’t let him go free. They force him to stand and bring him forward to kneel again before the Chief.

“Dean Winchester,” Tahatan says.

“Yes, sir,” Dean replies.

“You prove yourself to be a man with honor,” he says in English. “Kimmímila has chosen you. She claims you have chosen her in return. Do you deny this?”

Dean glances over at her. She bites the inside of her lip, a bit worried about how he’ll react. She’s not sure he completely understands what Tahatan is telling him, but he nods, regardless.

“No, sir. I don’t deny it,” Dean says.

“Then, you will be allowed to stay, and live among us,” Tahatan declares. "We will see for ourselves what you are. We will see if you are worthy."

Dean gives a nod, crossed with a bow of some kind. He obviously isn’t sure of what he’s supposed to do, but he does say thank you. Mila wraps her hands around his uninjured arm and helps him to his feet. She smiles at him to let him know that the worst is over. He blows out a breath in relief.

“Is that it?” he whispers. He expected more of a thrashing, if he’s honest.

“Almost,” she replies. The two of them stop short before her father, Chatan.

Dean straightens up and holds out his hand. “Sir.”

Chatan glances down at the white hand extended toward him. His gaze raises back up to Dean. 

He grunts in acknowledgement, but he turns on his heels and storms out of the tipi. Her mother comes forward next. She examines Dean from all angles. She takes his face in her hand, somewhat squishing his cheeks, so she can look deeply into his startled eyes.

She seems satisfied by what she finds, and she lets him go. Afterward, she takes Mila’s hand and heaves a deep sigh.

She kisses her daughter’s hand and says nothing else, leaving them to find her husband and calm him down.

Dean turns to Mila with a look that says, please tell me that’s it.

She smiles more genuinely.

“Come,” she says.

She leads him by the hand out of the Chief’s tipi and through the village. Dean takes in the rows of other tall, cone-like structures covered in buffalo skin, as well as all the faces that turn to stare at him in a mix of curiosity, wariness, and even fear. Some of them whisper to each other, taking their children by the hand and keeping them close.

Dean’s still on guard himself, even when Mila takes him to a smaller tipi. It’s been closed up for a while now, by the look of it. Weeds have grown right outside the entrance. 

“This one’s yours?” Dean asks.

She pauses, giving him another small smile. “Ours.”

Dean raises a brow. Ours. Really?

She opens the flap in the front and beckons him inside. There’s still enough daylight to shine through the outer lining. Inside, his gaze flits over the old pile of stones in the center for heating, clothes folded in the corner, some cooking pots and utensils, paintings on wood and clay, and a couple of beaded decorations. Buffalo skin bedding is laid out on the other side with a couple of soft looking furs. 

Son of a gun. Dean doesn’t even blink as he processes it all. He’s in a damn tipi. This is really about to become his life.

Shaking his head a little, he forces himself to focus on Mila. She’s his anchor, and she seems to sense that he’s reeling. She guides him to sit beside her on the bedding, holding his hands in hers. After a moment, he reaches up to tuck a curling strand of hair behind her ear.

“You didn’t get in too much trouble because of me, did you?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “No. My father and uncle are very similar. Strong to anger, but it is quick to run out. At least with me.”

Dean thinks he understands. Short fuse, quick fizzle.

“There is just…one thing,” Mila says. Her eyes fall away from his, like she’s embarrassed. He squeezes her hands.

“What?” he asks, his brows furrowing. It gets her to look at him again, but she seems worried to tell him.

“To convince my uncle to let you stay, I told them that we…” she trails, trying to find the right words in English. “That we are married.”

Dean’s brows raise high. His heart trips up faster. Okay, “ours” makes a lot more sense now.

“I am sorry,” she says quietly. “I didn’t want you hurt—”

“Sweetheart,” Dean says, cupping her cheek. Even with the hammering of his heart, he grins. “I’m pretty sure that’s where this was going anyway.”

In fact, this is a best-case scenario, as far as he’s concerned. He leans in to kiss her, and it doesn’t take long at all for her to sigh in relief, melting against him.

“We’re married, huh?” he asks. “No ceremony? No white dress?”

“We are bonded,” she replies, nodding as she meets every one of his kisses. “Or, we will be.”

She tugs him closer and revels in the feeling of his hands beginning to roam her body, sliding down her waist, her hips and thighs.

“Guess that means we have to seal the deal,” he grins. His lips drift away from hers to burn a familiar path across her cheek. He takes to nibbling her ear, making her flinch and laugh as it tickles.

“Seal-the-deal. What does that mean?” she asks.

Dean chuckles lowly in her ear. “Oh, I think you know.”

He guides her onto her back, over the comfortable mess of furs. He wants to take his time exploring every inch of soft, tan skin, but he first sweeps her hair away from her eyes, the back of his hand brushing against her cheek. She smiles up at him softly.

“Do you regret?” she whispers, reaching up to touch his chin with two slender fingers. “Do you regret helping me?”

Dean considers her question. He knows he’ll carry his family in his heart until the day he dies. His brother, his mother, the memory of his father. Benny and Cas, even Jack, and so many others.

It’s already a heavy burden, but he had always been prepared to lose his life on the battlefield, in service of his country. At least this way, he gains a new life. 

“No. Never did,” Dean replies. “Not even once.”

He bows his head toward hers, and he proves it to her. His lips capture hers, fueled by passion and wanting. Mila’s hands slide over his shoulders and down his back. Maybe without her realizing it, she implores him to let go of the weight heaped on his shoulders.

When he begins to bunch up the hem of her dress, she sits up to help guide his hands. Her quickening breaths mesh with his as the first layer of clothing drops beside the bedding. His tattered shirt joins her dress, along with pants and shoes and boots, until all that’s left is skin against warm, bare skin. He lays on his side right beside her and explores wherever she lets him begin.  

“Beautiful,” Dean murmurs, as his lips follow the column of her neck, down between her breasts. Her breaths rise to meet him, especially when he begins to toy with a dark, pebbled nipple. Her fingers slip through his hair, and his name falls from her lips. He palms one breast while kissing and gently teasing the other, exploring sensitive flesh and grazing her sensitive fleshwith his teeth.

“No man’s ever touched you?” he asks, despite knowing the answer.

She shakes her head, her fingers gripping his hair tighter as his lips and tongue move against her skin.

“No,” Mila gasps a reply. Her hand slides down the back of his neck, and the more he teases her, her nails soon create faint red lines down his back, her thighs squeezing together. She feels a throbbing ache at the very center of her. Despite her inexperience with men, she knows what it means, and she knows what she wants.

Dean’s mouth drags away from her breast. He pulls back so he can meet her eyes. A smile curves his lips, and he takes one of her hands from his shoulders. 

“Have you ever touched yourself?” he asks. He guides her hand down her body, brushing over a wet, sensitive nipple, down her stomach, and between her legs. This time, Mila nods in answer. She stares up at Dean with eyes like molten honey. He leans in to kiss her neck.

“Show me,” he says.

She shudders at the depths in his voice. It increases the flood of wetness she already feels, even before she slips two fingers between the folds of her sex. She gathers some of that slick and circles it over the source of her pleasure, the small nub above her entrance.

Dean takes his hardened length in his hand. While she writhes by her own hand, he drinks her in with his eyes. A soft groan falls from his lips as he pumps himself a few times, sliding a thumb across the weeping head of his cock.

He can’t be a spectator for long though. He nips tantalizingly at her neck, creating a zing of added sensation across her skin. She whimpers, though she tries to stifle it, her knee bending further.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Dean says. “Let me hear you.”

He releases himself and replaces her hand with his own. He slips two long fingers inside her drenched entrance, earning a gasping moan from her. She latches onto his shoulders and buries her face into his neck. She whispers fervent things he doesn’t understand, but it only spurs him on.

His thumb circles insistently over her clit as his fingers pulse inside her. Her hips buck a needy rhythm against his hand, until her thighs begin to shake, and her inner walls squeeze even tighter around his fingers.

“Shit, that’s it, baby,” he pants gruffly against her cheek. “Let go for me.”

Warmth snaps and floods from her throbbing core, and she cries out near his ear, her nails biting into his skin. Her release coats his fingers.

Mila drops her head back against the furs underneath her. Her chest rises and falls quickly while she tries to catch her breath, her eyes tightly shut. Dean surprises her with a soft kiss.

“Mila,” he prods. He wants to see her eyes again, so pretty and wanton when she comes. He veers away from her lips to kiss her cheek, and then the other side of her neck. “Let me see you, sweetheart.”

She huffs a small laugh. Opening her eyes, she gestures to her bare body. “This is not enough?”

Dean’s lips tug at a smile. He shakes his head. “As a matter of fact, no.”

He shifts over her, finding his place between the cradle of her thighs. His elbows come to rest on either side of her head. She feels trapped by his body, even as she welcomes his weight and the feeling of his arousal, long and heavy and hard, trapped between their bodies. This man fills every corner of her world in this moment.

“If I’m your husband now, that means I get all of you,” he says with a grin. She gazes up at him, both in blushing amusement and affection.

“All of me,” Mila repeats. She takes his face in her hands and brings him closer, until her lips are a whisper from his. “Then I want all of you.” 

Dean chuckles. “You sure about that?”

She smiles in satisfaction, and her lips claim him this time. One kiss turns into many, each one mounting in passion and desire. Dean groans into her when she begins to touch him. Her hands are soft, but direct in their seeking; they caress his shoulders, run down his chest and stomach, and then, more tentatively explore the now painfully hard length of him pressing against her.

He makes a grateful sound of pleasure when her hand wraps around his cock, squeezing gently. His fingers bury themselves in her hair.

“I want all of you,” she says, this time a plea and a demand all at once as she strokes him.

Dean nods in agreement. He’s come this far. He can do that for her too.

He spreads her thighs a bit wider and encourages her to adjust the angle of her hips for him. His hand glides down her plush thigh and gets a healthy grip. Then he slides his hand under hers and guides his cock through her folds, first just holding himself at her warm, wet entrance.

He manages to wait for a second, in order to meet her gaze. She’s already holding onto his arms tightly, like he’s become her anchor. Her thighs wrap around his hips and beckon him closer.

Slowly, he pushes inside. He takes care in how he works her open. She winces at the sting of his girth stretching her, but his fingers once again massage her clit, stroking her arousal back into a keening flame. He swallows her gasps and moans as he bottoms out inside her, fully sheathed. Tears prick at her eyes, but not from pain.

Mila’s dream flashes like a waking vision behind her eyes. Wings take flight, along with the gleam of a golden beak and a sharp eye.

She blinks, and the image disappears. She’s left with the man who has become hers, making love to her with every stroke of him deep inside her. She presses grateful kisses across his neck and shoulder, wherever she can reach while she clings to his strong arms.

The thick head of him brushes a sensitive place over and over, one that tightens the coil in her lower belly and makes her core tremble again with warmth, until her body convulses against him, pulsing in pleasure, gripping him tight from the inside. Mila’s fingers clench in his hair just as tightly as her release hits her in a powerful wave; even her voice becomes lost to it.

Gritting his teeth, Dean grips the soft flesh of her hip and chases his own end. The way her inner walls choke his cock, he has no choice but to come hot inside her, his spend mixing with her own release. A strangled shout tears from his throat.

He has to brace himself before he crushes her. With his forearms resting on either side of her head, he lowers his forehead against hers. Her legs slip from where they’ve been tightly molded to his hips, her feet meeting the floor. Eventually he slips out of her. He watches his seed drip out and create a mess on the dark furs. The sight of it satisfies something primal deep inside him.

Later he’ll ask her about washing up (and about supper), but for now, he just turns onto his back beside her. She inches toward him, and he raises an arm so she can splay out against his side. They both lay there for a moment in the quiet, just catching their breath together. It marks the end of a long journey, and yet, the start of one too.

Mila turns to raise onto her elbow. She reaches over to wipe the sweat from his brow in a tender touch. Dean smiles up at her. He takes her hand and presses a kiss into her palm.

“I could get used to this,” he says.

Her eyes widen in surprise, but then she laughs softly. “Yes.”

Her hand moves down to his chest, over his heart. She sobers as she considers her people, and how much trust has yet to be bridged—not only her own father and uncle, but the entire tribe. When she led him through the village, they called him wašíču.

Fat-taker. Greedy White. Not one of us.

“It will be hard for you here,” Mila says. She worries it will be too hard for Dean.  

He just squeezes her hand, earning her attention through tumultuous thoughts.

“I’m not afraid of a little hard work,” Dean replies. His usual confident charm is infused in his smile, but she has a feeling he’s just trying to reassure her.

Sensing she’s not convinced, Dean reaches up to hold her cheek, guiding her to look at him and not the floor.

“Listen. I made my choice, and I’m sticking it out, come hell or high water,” he says.

Mila’s brows knit together. “Hell-or-high… What does that mean?”

Dean sits up on his elbow along with her. He takes her chin between his fingers and meets her gaze.

“It means if you want me, you’ve got me. The rest, we’ll figure out as we go along,” he says.

A smile slowly lightens Mila’s face. She tilts her chin up to meet him with a kiss.

“I will be with you,” she says. It’s a promise.

Dean smiles back.

“Good,” he says. “Because that’s just about all I need.”

AN: There we have it, friends. 💜 I really, truly hope you enjoyed this mini series! To be honest, I have more ideas for this little world (like how Dean might try to assimilate into this culture), but I'll leave it to you guys to let me know if that's something you'd be interested in reading.

Until then, I would love to know what you thought of this chapter! 

Pronunciation Guide:

Šóta ("sho-tah") Chatan ("chat-tan") Tahatan ("ta-hat-tann") Wašíču ("wash-ee-jew")

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[jjs-brainrot]

Do u think Nana and Hina think about their respective former flames when they're having sex? I think Rin and Ai are the most normal about Momoka's leaving the group, and Nana would have been fine if Hina didn't arrive. Hina's like the seed of chaos that throws Nana off of her heartbreak recovery and makes her indulge in their mutual yearning for their past loves. But she's toxicity with a smile. Hina's the devil you let in on a lonely night, she'll burrow into your chest and take the place of your heart, so when she leaves--because she will--she takes the last bits of life in your body with her

Hina's absolutely not over Nina and probably never will be. She keeps thinking about how she just wanted Nina coming back to her and asking either for her help or for forgiveness and to tell her she was right. Instead, Nina just stood by her belief that she was right even when it put her through hell and the fact that Nina never even thought about reaching out to her just never stopped bothering Hina.

Hina would absolutely be into BDSM, however, anytime she's domming another girl, she just can't not think of Nina bent over and asking for her forgiveness. It eventually gets to the point where Nana calls it off half way through a session as Hina kept calling her Nina. Hina being who she is, acts indignant like it isn't actually a problem and even fires back at Nana by saying she can just call her Momoka if it bothers her so much.

Of course, the one time Nana does call Hina "Momoka" as a bit of revenge, it's Hina who stops the session as now she has to think about how happy Nina looks with Momoka and it just sets her off.

Their relationship eventually becomes cold, but they can't really break it off as that would just cause problems for the rest of Diamond Dust. It's clearly not working as both are thinking of other women at this point, but neither wants to rock the boat as DD is an important part of both their lives.

[scribblingface]

I went into bg3 fully ready to have a good time and have done so despite many ways in which the game is not good and have not worried too much over various dramas about patch changes but my chill streak has finally ended and I am wailing gnashing my teeth etc. about patch 7 (the supposedly final one with story/content changes) not adding companion reactivity for any of the durge content in act 2

[hvrtbroken]

he's glad she stops herself this time , but he hears the whisper of the apology on her lips , ready and fully formed . he waits patiently for her as she tries to form her thoughts . this is something he recognises . he knows this well himself. THEY BOTH KNOW THAT . it takes his minutes to say full sentences , after a lot of stopping and starting and mental umming and aahing . she's always patient with him . it's the least he can do to give it right back to her . " you wanted me . . . so i could have sex with you ? " he asks , slightly confused by how the two correlate . TOUCHING EACH OTHER he understands . everyday is hard . tonight was even harder . he rakes his brain , wondering if maybe by letting down some of his walls ( holding her hand , walking outside , touching her hips ) , he complicated things . maybe he shouldn't have blurred the damn lines . they said to keep work as work . he should have kept his word .

nico opens his mouth . closes it again . her requests are simple enough . he indicates again , but this time instead of turning the corner - he pulls the car over . nico inhales deeply , letting the noise wrinkle the air between them before he turns to face her . his eyebrows dig down , careful and unsure as he drinks her in . she looks even smaller than usual . more unsure . YOUNG . it makes his stomach flip slightly . just when he thinks they get on even footing , on even ground , something disrupts them again . but this is what being in a relationship is . you do the work . you put in the time . YOU TALK TO EACH OTHER . " i will always want you . " he tells her , voice low but genuine . " i'll want you if i see you in an hour . i'll want you if i have to wait a year to see you . " which hopefully will never be the case . nico understands that she wants his assurance , and he wants to give it to her . he needs to find the right words . the exact puzzle pieces to slot in .

a quiet , almost laugh breathes its way out of his mouth . " i don't want anything . " he says , and he means it . " this . . tonight . . it isn't about me , star . " she's always asking him about him , and he's always putting it back on her because he needs her to be her own person . he needs her to figure out what SHE wants and likes and doesn't like , too . every other woman he's been with has been so steadfast and overly confident . it's sending him through a whirl to try and get used to this , and how it's completely the opposite . he's never done this before . but star makes him always want to try . " i'm always going to be here . not just 'cause it's my job . okay ? because i want to be . " he tells her honestly . " but . . i can't be the guy you talk about you ex with , when there's stuff unresolved , which makes you upset . i can't be the guy you sleep with to make a bad memory a good one . " he exhales , puts one hand to his face , rubbing at his tired eyes . " i can't be the guy who tells you what to do . " because he ISN'T that guy . will NEVER be that guy . except , obviously , in bed . and even then , he's trying his best to get HER to be more vocal . " things are okay . " nico tells her softly . " but you gotta make sure you're okay . "

she doesn't know what to do except apologize. feels like it's her fault, that they're here in the first place. shouldn't have acted so impulsively, should have taken a step back to consider like she's used to. not act on her emotions. but that's what she'd become with nico. she gave into them, felt them, fully. maybe for the first time in a long time. "s-" she catches the apology just as the word formed on her lips, doesn't want him to keep repeating himself. star feels her phone vibrate with notifications and wishes she could throw it away, stop it from interrupting her train of thought.

her eyes flit between him and the front window, between him and the way back home. between him and his tapping fingers. she just hopes he doesn't hate or resent her for how she reacted. his words do make her feel better instantly, the reassurance lifting a little weight off her chest. "i know, i should've . . . not. i just . . ." doesn't know what to say, feels like a teenager again, confused and quiet and unable to express herself. it's a feeling that accompanies all the regrets she's had so far. so — in an attempt to avoid it — she reaches for the only thing that makes sense. "i just wanted you. you make me feel good. so i reached out for that." lets out a shaky sigh, swallows the scratch in her throat. keeps going, because that's all she can offer. wants for him to understand her, even if her emotions overwhelm her. "i'd wanted to touch you all night so that combined with the bad emotions. i just . . . couldn't stop myself. "

his question makes her pause. she thinks, lets the silence still before opening her mouth. "show me that . . . things are okay, maybe. tell me that you still want me." because all i ever want is you. keeps the last sentence to herself, doesn't want to be too much. byeol's gaze fixes back on him, on how the streetlights flood over him every few seconds. the way the sight of him makes her heart jump. he's always thinking of her, wants to reciprocate that somehow. wants this to work, and so will do anything to keep her side of their relationship functioning too. can't imagine being without him right now, doesn't know if she could handle that. "what do you want me to do?"

[neverendingford]

.

[gojonanami]

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY.

↳ JJK MEN: HOW THEY FUCK YOU WHEN THEY'RE JEALOUS

↳ feat. satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, choso kamo, yuta okkotsu

cw: 18+ only, nsfw, overstimulation (f!), dick drunk, orgasm delay (f!), riding, semi-exhibitionism, spanking, teasing, dom! geto, soft dom! nanami, breeding, body worship, pleasure dom! choso, unprotected sex, creampie, marking, oral (f!), fingering (f!), facesitting (f!), marking (f!), geto uses the term "monkeys," degradation (slut) in geto's blurb, ijichi and ino mentioned in gojo's and choso's blurbs respectively, a/n: the only way to read the title is to the tune of olivia rodrigo's song. also its my first time writing yuta - be gentle.

SATORU GOJO | overstimulation, dick drunk, orgasm delay

jealous of laughing at another's joke

"T-Toru, ngh, please, I can't—" and you're only met with a laugh, his lips pressed against your neck, as his cock continued to fuck you.

How many times had you cum? You had lost count. Your cunt was soaked with your release, along with your thighs and his cock, slipping down his skin as he fucked you hard and fast.

He was relentless, maybe limitless, especially today.

"You can handle it, sweetheart, know this little cunt can take it," he's grunting, as his fingers dig into your plush thighs, "haven't broken this pussy yet," and you couldn't bring yourself to be concerned about the "yet" as he brought you to cum yet again, and you were sure if every word hadn't been fucked out of your brain— it had now.

Your eyes were glazed over, fucked out, as you stared up at him, as only pauses a moment, to press your thighs to your chest, "gonna fuck you right, baby, gotta kiss your womb," and you're whining, and he's only pistoning in deeper, "not so funny now huh?" he's hissing as you grow even fuckin' tighter — how was that possible?

"what are you—" and you whine as his tip grazes even deeper, and you're sure he's somehow fucking your stomach now, "are you jealous of Ijichi?"

"Don't say his name," he gives a particularly rough thrust of his hips to punctuate his point, drawing another squeal from your lips, and yet he's the one who brings him up, "fuckin' laughing at his joke like I wasn't even there. He isn't funny. Nowhere as funny as me!" and you're already close again, tears pooling in your eyes, as you stammer.

Was he really that upset because you laughed at an old friend's bad joke?

"Toru, a-are you serious—" and he's slowing down now to a tortuous pace, as you whimper, "baby, he just made a joke, I was being polite," you can't even laugh at how ridiculous it is with how badly you want to cum.

"Only i'm supposed to see that smile, that laugh," and he's teasing you with the tip of his cock now, dragging it in teasing circles around your clit, "you're mine, mine to make smile, make to make laugh, mine to fuck," and he's fucking you again, bottoming out in one thrust, "say it, baby, tell me who you belong to,"

And your back is arching, throat raw as you tell him just how much he owns you, as you orgasm for the nth time, and he's not far behind, his hot release spurting into your needy cunt, as he fucks it only deeper.

"Toru," you moan again, "Toru, fuck," you murmur, fucked dumb by his dick, as you both come down from your highs, "were you really that jealous of—"

And he only pouts, pressing his lips to yours again, "Don't say his name," and he's pressing needy kisses to your neck, as he pulls out, your mixed cum leaking out, before he's slipping two fingers in, pulling another moan from your lips, "by the time I'm done with you, you won't even remember his name."

SUGURU GETO | riding, semi-exhibitionism, dom!geto, spanking, degradation (slut)

jealous of you talking about someone else

"Princess, you can do better than that," Suguru is clicking his tongue, as you split yourself open on his cock, warm walls squeezing all too deliciously around his already drenched dick, as only whines and pants left your kiss ruined lips, "gonna have to be quieter than that if you don't want someone else to hear—"

He had you riding him in a side room of a temple he used often to collect money, some his other followers congregated in the room over to hear him "preach of the new world." Bullshit that he fed to monkeys that made them full and happy and complacent -- but right now, he had something else that was making you feel so full.

"C'mon baby, ride me like you mean it," he coos, and his hand is coming down on your ass with a mean spank to your already sore ass, heat blooming from the impact, "you certainly had plenty of effort when you were sweet-talking those damn monkeys, didn't you?"

"Sugu, I was just trying to help," you whine, as his hips snap against yours, making you squeal, as he finds his way even deeper into your already fucked out cunt, "I just was--"

"You were flirting," he hisses, as his hands find their way to your hips, forcing you to meet his upward thrusts, as your hands cover your mouth to muffle your moans, "you love this, love it when I fuck you like this, think you want them to see you like this, grinding on my cock like a slut," you whine, but his words only makes your sweet cunt give a telltale clench around his dick, "that's it — you can lie, but your princess cunt can't, baby,"

"Sugu, please 'm close—can't—" and his hands are pulling back, letting you do all the work, and you do, fucking yourself stupid on his cock, the wet squelch of your pussy ringing in your ears — so loud, you can't understand why someone hasn't burst into the room yet— but you can't bring yourself to care, when you're so fuckin' close to cumming.

"That's it, fuck, s'good for me," and he's pulling your hands away from your mouth, letting your moans resonate and fill the room, as he watches a white ring of your cum form around the base of his cock, as he grunts, dick twitching as your walls cream around his cock, "now moan my name as you cum so these goddamn monkeys know whose cock you're bouncing on."

KENTO NANAMI | soft!dom, breeding, hair pulling

jealous of running into an ex

"Did he ever make you feel this good?" Kento's question murmured against your neck, as he presses soft kisses to your neck, dragging his leaking tip against your aching cunt, "did he love you like I did?" And his fingers sneak under your head, making your neck arch as he tugged your hair.

"N-no, Kento, he didn't—"

"He certainly acted as if we were the same," he scoffed at the thought of your ex, the one you had dated before Kento, who had the audacity to approach the two of you today. Catching up with you and even touching your arm, as if your husband wasn't there, even ignoring him, until you introduced him. They had shook hands, and you knew Kento had squeezed his hand a little too hard, but now those same hands were gripping you softly — but firmly.

"He's nothing compared to you you're everything to me," and he's rewarding you with sinking his tip into your needy pussy, "ah, Kento, please stop teasing me," you whine, a noise leaving your throat that you didn't even know you could make.

"You're practically sucking me in, but did you do the same for that bastard?" he's dragging his cock up and down, driving you insane with how your walls squeezed, trying to pull him in, but he resisted every tempting contraction of your sweet cunt, "did you take him this well?" and his teeth graze against the soft skin of your neck, "did he make you beg for him?"

"Only you make me feel this good, only you, Kento, only you make me this needy, make this pussy so—" and he's sinking into you, slowly, torturously, but pleasurably — inch by inch, until he's bottoming out, but he doesn't move, not at first, "please, Kento, please—move—"

And he obliges you, thrusting into you, fucking you in earnest, his cock dragging against your walls with each snap of his hips agianst yours, "such a needy baby," he grunts, "your cunt is trying to hold onto me even as I pull out — is that how much you want my cock? Want me to fill you?"

You're nodding, moaning his name, as you meet his lips in messy kiss, all tongue and teeth, as he fucks you harder, "Look at me, baby," he orders, and your eyes flutter open, meeting his lust clouded gaze, making you all the more sensitive to his touch, "want you to watch me as I breed you," and you're groaning, pussy twitching at the thought, "how're you even tighter?" he grunts, "want me to breed you, don't you? Want me to fill you with my cum? Make you full with my children," and your head is thrown back, voice raw as you can only groan his name again and again.

"Kento, mmph, 'm s'close, can't,"

"Cum for me, baby, let me fill you," he's finding your lips in another sloppy kiss as you cum, hard, walls gripping him as he fucked you through your orgasm. And he's cumming too right behind you, filling your womb with his hot release, "good girl," he murmurs, pressing sweet kisses to your chest, "but if you think I'm done, we're far from finished," and he's pulling out slowly, before gathering his cum that leaked out on his fingers before slipping it back into your still sensitive cunt, "we're not going to be getting much sleep tonight, love."

CHOSO KAMO | body worship, pleasure dom, oral(f), squirting, implied oral (m!)

jealous of a fellow sorcerer flirting

"Cho-so! Nugh, please—" your fingers buried in his black locks, hair ties long since come loose from your tugging — and you're not even sure if you want to pull him closer, or push him away, "i can't—"

"I know you have more in you, my love," he's only murmuring against your sweet cunt, tongue flicking against your swollen clit, "need to feel you flood my mouth, need to taste every inch of you,” he’s re-doubling his efforts, his hot tongue dragging your gummy walls, making good on his promise, “sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted — how are you this perfect? How do I deserve you?” You look at him, nestled between your thighs, his lips and chin glossy with your release, tongue darting out to lick your pre from his lips.

“Choso, y-you do, I love you, only you,” and he’s peering up at you with a lidded gaze — but you see something else besides lust — insecurity lined his furrowed brow, and then it clicks, “you know that Ino was just being friend—"

But he’s burying his face back, fucking your cunt his his tongue, as his thumb teases your needy clit, your words falling away to pleasure.

“It wasn’t just friendly. He wants you. I know the lustful gaze of a man, especially one who wants what I have,” he mutters, as his teeth graze your inner thigh, drawing a gasp from your lips, “but how do I have the right to you? Half curse, half human — what am I really to have the right to be with you?” And then he bites your thigh, pulling a loud moan from your lips, “but I can’t help but want you.”

“I love you, only you, I don’t care what you are. I love everything about you because you’re mine. My Choso,” you manage between pants, as your fingers tug his hair to force him to meet your gaze — make him see the state he’s left you in — utterly fucked out with your chest rising and falling, your eyes glazed over with lust, “please, I need you—"

And that’s all he needs to redouble his errors, rubbing himself on the mattress below him, certainly soaking through his boxers and the sheets.

“Mmph, Choso, please, I’m—“ and his lips latch around your clit, sucking hard, until you squirt on his face, and he’s eagerly lapping up your release, as you moan his name. He’s slurping and swallowing your cum with lips quirked in a smile, his groans and grunts only making your cunt flutter around his tongue.

And he’s pulling away finally, an unspoken question on his lips whether he did well, and your only response is to pull him into a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips, before flipping him over. You kiss your way down his body, as you tug his boxers down to free his erection, tongue grazing the underside, making him groan.

You grin, “My turn.”

YUTA OKKOTSU | fingering (f!), marking, face sitting

jealous of an ex you just broke up with

“Yuta, please—" the last word comes out a squeal, as his calloused fingers tease the crotch of your shorts, a warm heat settling over your skin all at once but all too slowly — like the start of a wildfire.

"I told you I'd help you forget about him," he murmurs, his long and lithe fingers all too skilled, as they snap the waistband of your shorts against your skin, "he never deserved you - you're special, especially to me," and he's pulling down your shorts, until you're kicking them away at your feet.

And this fire had spread far too fast — especially with his fingers teasing your folds through your soaked panties.

“Still thinking about him?” Yuta asks softly, his words soft but not the intent, and he only sighs at your whine, "I'll have to do better for you then," and his fingers slip past your ruined underwear as they tug the fabric down your thighs, making butterflies bloom in your stomach before they surely burst into flames from the fire Yuta is brewing, as two fingers part your dripping folds, "already so wet? I've barely started,"

"Yuta," and he's pausing, as you try to form a sentence, but only comes out as a single word, "more," and his lips quirk into a smile.

"Of course," and he's fucking you open nice and slow, your pre slipping down his fingers onto your hardwood living room floor, "i've been wanting to do this for so long — has your ex ever done this for you?" and you only swallow, whining when he stops, only continuing when you shake your head, "you deserve so much, you deserve the world," and a third finger sinks into you, making you cry out his name, "that's it, love, let me make you feel good."

"Yuta, please," you moan, as his fingers drag against your needy cunt, as he noses the nape of your neck, placing wet kisses along your neck, before his teeth graze your sensitive skin, sucking and licking marks that surely will dot your skin the next day, "ah—"

"Mine," he murmurs, and that makes your cunt twitch around his fingers — god you were so close, so close—and that's right when he's pulling his fingers out.

"Yut—" and he's licking your release from his fingers, before he's tugging you into a bruising kiss, sticking his tongue out to meet yours in a messy kiss, before he's pulling you on top of him, wet cunt pressed against his chest, "what are you--"

"Sit on my face," he says, his pupils nearly completely dark as he meets your gaze, "i want to show you what you've been missing -- how you deserve to be treated," and the blood rushes to your face, as your head shakes no, but he can feel your pussy say yes -- walls squeezing around nothing, "please,"

"Yuta, you don't have to—" but he's unwavering in his gaze, "what if I crush you?"

"It wouldn't be the worst way to go — you know I did have a secret execution scheduled before," and you smack him, but he only catches you by the wrist and kisses each finger, licking your fingertips, sending heat right to your cunt, "let me make you feel good — better than he ever has," and now you realize what it is — it's jealousy.

So you settle above his face, your cheeks burning as you feel his breath warm your aching pussy, "don't worry," and he's helping you ease yourself onto his lips, and right before his tongue drags slowly along the length of your sopping cunt, "you won't remember your name, much less his, after this."

a/n: i just realized i used a similar line in gojo's and yuta's, but y'know what, like teacher like student. what was this? who knows? will i do something like this again? maybe.

[nkogneatho]

Y'all know those insecure girlfriends on tiktok when their boyfriend does their makeup accurately, they go “what bitch taught you that?” yeah, Gojo is the male version of that.

He knows he is attractive, and that everyone dotes on him. But you look out of this world. Everybody wants you. Like all of his friends have tried to hit on you a few times. They said it's just playful, but his insecurities kicked in.

One evening, you showed up to one of his totally unserious basketball games with his homies, cheering him every time he dunks.

“Suguru, my girl's watchin'. Gotta show off a bit, yeah?” he smirks, licking his lips his reflexes were so good that barely anyone else could keep up with him. It was like he had drank 10 liters of energy drink with the sudden speed boost.

You hopped in his arms when the match was over, peppering his face with kisses as he enjoyed his victory, showing a middle finger to suguru to which he rolled his eyes.

“you look so cool when you jump so high, toru!” you squealed in happiness. He really did look cool.

“hehe, you liked that, baby? Jumped a little higher just for you.” he kissed your forehead.

“hate to say it, but he is undefeated.” suguru spoke up. “feel like we need to put you on the court, y/n just to distract him so we can win.” your cheeks started burning up at that. You and satoru have been dating for a few months, but you were still not used to the way everyone talks about him as if he's a simp for you. well, he is and should be.

“i would still win though.” your eyes shifted to gojo. You were a little offended at that, even though it was just messing around. It was his habit.

“alright. Let's have a 1v1” the men did not miss the shift of your tone. Suguru knew satoru might be in trouble, while the white haired wasn't worrying about it too much. Because you're not too savvy with basketball aside from what he's taught you, and he is a pro. Sure, you would be mad later, but nothing he can't make up to you.

The boys spread in corners, as you and gojo exchanged a competitive gaze—yours was competitive and his was more of a “i love when you get riled up”—before the match began. The game was not anything serious, so all you had to do was score five points. It was a piece pf cake for gojo but you were being surprisingly competitive. You scored two points just as soon as he did. His homeboys thought that gojo was going easy on you but suguru knew he was struggling. But he lives up to his name and score two points, making him just 1 score away from his sweet victory. There's no way you can win now. If you miss this chance, it's over. But you remembered something someone had taught you and all that “i'd still win though” just pumped up enough adrenaline and oh. my. god.

Gojo's jaw dropped as you shot a three pointer, your lips widening into an evil grin, and all the boys cheered at your win. You were sure they're gonna tease him about today until eternity. Toru was impressed…well, for a few seconds before he hit you with a,

“which motherfucker taught you that? because I don't remember teaching you this yet.” you were laughing but his reaction was genuine.

“hey, c'mon now. don't call me a motherfucker.” suguru slid in, a hand resting on gojo's arm. “i'm a good teacher, aren't I?” he winked at you.

“the fuck? When the fuck did you teach her?”

“last week when we were playing at toji's party.” gojo was too busy playing beer bong at that time.

“thank you, suguru. And you…" you looked at your man, "where is allat “but I'd still win though” attitude?” you mocked him.

“ight fine. you got me. i was just messin' around and ya'know that. don't get mad at me, baby,” he snaked an arm around your waist. “we're both winners. We gotta celebrate properly, right?” he leaned closer to your ears.

“now let's see who wins in the bedroom, tonight. hmm? You know i gotta settle the score, princess.”

[nanaslutt]

the best teacher

ʚ synopsis: Nanami finds out you've never had an orgasm and he's determiend to show you exactly how to do it

ʚ pairing: Kento Nanami x reader

ʚ cont: fem reader, established relationship, inexperienced reader, he talks you through it, fingering, clit play, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, masturbation, protected sex, prone bone, rough sex, big dick Nanami, fluff

ʚ note: congrats @l0rdgeosupport3rr on winning my spur of the moment fic giveaway, i hope u enjoy <3

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI (18+)

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"Are you nervous?" Nanami asked, his deep voice right against your ear seeping into your head and making your brain turn to mush. His hands dragging from your thighs to caressing your torso was quite distracting as he sat behind you, your back against his hard chest. You could feel his excitement poking you in your lower back, making you wonder how much he was holding back right now.

You had confessed to your boyfriend Nanami when a makeout session got a little hot and heavy, that you had actually never touched yourself. Well, not successfully anyway. It took everything in you not to cower away when he sat you down in front of him and made you explain exactly what you were having trouble with. You confessed you wanted to take things further with him, but you were nervous. Every time you touched yourself, you would bring yourself right up to the edge, but you could never manage to push yourself over the ledge and feel that bliss everyone always talked about. 

Nanami, the ever-loving boyfriend he was, generously offered to help you out. Nanami hadn't had many partners before you, but he did read romantic and erotic books in his free time and maybe went a little above and beyond in biology class when the topic of discussion was women's bodies. Kento never wanted to make anyone uncomfortable with his actions if he were ever to be intimate with someone, so he studied like hell to make sure that never happened. 

"Don't be nervous, sweetheart. I'm gonna walk you through it okay? Just leave everything to me, all you gotta do is relax and pay attention." Nanami whispered against your ear, his reassuring words making your body relax and melt against his. "Good girl." He praised when he felt your shoulders go slack against him. Nanami continued to rub his hands up and down your soft thighs, one hand caressed your stomach and hips and the other crept up your skin to squeeze your breast through your bra, making you bite back a moan on instinct.

Nanami noticed you holding back your sounds, and dragged his other hand to massage both breasts now, squishing them together and kneading them in his large palms. You rolled your head to the side and tucked your face in Nanami's neck, pressing your thighs together as the stimulation sent jolts of your head to the bundle of nerves between your thighs. 

"You don't have to hold back your voice with me. You can be as loud as you want, just let it out. I know it feels good." Nanami praised, crossing his hands over your chest and sliding his right hand under the cup of your left breast, and his left hand under your right one. Nanami felt his cock twitch when you released little gasps and moans into his neck, your breath tickling his skin. 

He resisted the urge to fuck his hips against your ass, not wanting you to think he was trying to rush you. The older man found your hardened buds under your bra and pinched them softly, rubbing and twirling them with his fingers. Both of your hands shot up to grab his thick wrists for comfort as you squirmed against him, rubbing your thighs together to bring yourself some relief. 

"Does that feel good, honey?" Nanami asked, looking down at you from under his lashes. He couldn't see your face, as you were still hiding it in the crook of his neck, but your noises and the way you nodded rapidly agaisnt him were good enough. "Does your cunt ache?" Nanami asked, licking his lips as he watched you hump against your thighs. "Mhm." You responded, your body jolting and shaking against his as he rubbed your nipples expertly with his large fingers. 

"Good, you should always warm your body up first before you touch yourself. Don't rush, get excited. Wait until you can feel yourself dripping." Nanami instructed, his vulgar words making you want to shy away from him even more. "I need to know you're listening. Do you understand?" He asked, pausing his ministrations until you gave him a proper answer so he knew his teachings would not be in vain. 

"Yes." You whispered against him, making Nanami crack an almost unnoticeable smile at your bashfulness. "I'm gonna rub your pussy over your panties now," Nanami warned you, waiting for a nod of understanding before he pulled one of his hands out from your bra and started dragging it down your body. He flipped his hand and just barely ghosted his fingertips down your body, dragging them down your skin as he made his way to your thighs, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

Little gasps and choked breaths from you made him pull his bottom lip between his teeth as he tried to restrain himself. "Part your legs for me, please," Nanami asked sweetly, waiting until your legs were spread before he hooked his legs over yours, making it so that if the stimulation got too much, you couldn't snap your legs on his hand while he got you off. "H-haah.." Your breathing seemed so loud in the now suddenly quiet room and Nanami did the same motion he did down your body, just teasing his fingers over your knees and down to your sensitive inner thighs.

"Kento..." You whined breathlessly, rocking your hips into the air out of impatience. Nanami's resolve faltered for a moment when your ass started grinding back on his cock, giving him the perfect stimulation. His eyes rolled back in his head as he lost himself for a moment, relishing in the pleasure. "You want me to touch your pussy?" He teased, his voice deeper and more aroused sounding than before as his lips tickled over your ear. 

You slightly leaned your head away from him, exposing a bit of your neck and the side of your face to his lips. Kento pressed a featherlight kiss to your ear, making goosebumps raise over your arms before he spread his fingers like a V and teased them around your cunt. He let out a sigh with you, his cock twitching when your hands squeezed his wrist that held your tit tighter.

"Please Ken, I need it." You begged, spreading your legs further to emphasize your words. You couldn't take your eyes off his hand that teased over your pussy, not yet touching you where you needed him the most. Kento massaged your breast in circles, using the fat to calm himself down when he felt a bead of pre-cum leak from his aching dick into his boxers. 

"Is this what you need?" He whispered sensually against the shell of your ear as he pressed his thick middle finger along the center of your pussy, dragging it against your clit, down to your needy hole, which had now soaked your panties with your juices. You let out a gasp and tipped your head back against his shoulder, exposing your neck as your eyes fell shut in bliss. 

"This spot here is important," Nanami spoke between kisses against your throat, his eyes half closed in bliss. He tapped his thick middle finger against your clit, before he pressed down on it and started rubbing it in circles. "Oh fuck-" You gaped, your chest inflating as you sucked a deep breath into your lungs. "You need to touch your clit like this if you want to cum." Nanami instructed, making sure you were nodding after every sentence he spoke.

"Uh-huh, u-u-huh." You moaned, nodding dumbly as you relished in the feeling of Kento touching you through your panties, your greedy hole clenching around nothing at his touch. "How do you touch yourself? You said you have trouble finishing, are you touching your clit like this?" Nanami asked, making your face rush with blood. Your cheeks felt hot as you opened your eyes and looked between your legs. Nanami watched you watch him from the corner of his eye, waiting for you to speak. 

"Y-yeah." You tried to speak, your voice coming out breathier and more stuttered than you thought it would. "It gets really i-intense the closer I get to..." You trailed off, darting your eyes to the side of the room. Nanami raised his eyebrows and rubbed his fingers faster over your clothed clit, his cock throbbing when your voice hitched and your moans raised in volume. "You can say it. It gets intense before you orgasm, right? That's why you can't finish, your body goes rigid, doesn't it?" Nanami said, hitting the nail right on the head. 

You nodded at his words, taking a moment to greedily take air into your lungs when Nanami ceased his rubbing and nonchalantly started sliding his fingers underneath your panties. "Y-yeah, f-fuuuck." You began to speak again when your words were cut short as Nanami started rubbing his bare fingers against your hot, wet clit. It felt ten thousand times better than him teasing you through your panties.

"It feels so much better after teasing yourself right? Your body is worked up and ready for more, it's aching for it. You nodded, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you whined into the room, your moans echoing off the walls. You were unable to stop your hips from jerking into his hand when he started rubbing your clit with two fingers more rapidly.

"I-its you," You gasped, your nails digging into his thick wrist that held your tit. Nanami cocked his head in confusion, waiting for you to elaborate. "Y-you, it feels good b-because it's you," Nanami swears at that moment his brain short circuits as he fights every neuron in his body to not send signals to his dick to cream his pants right now. "You really..." Nanami trails off as he slides his hand out from your bra and grabs your neck, tipping your head to look up at him.

His lips collide with yours in a passionate, needy kiss. His lips move quickly, wasting no time before his tongue was mingling with your own, making your already needy pussy throb for more. "Gonna put my fingers in." He moaned between kisses, his eyebrows furrowing when your humping got more needy, and your ass rubbed his cock just right from behind. 

Your lips separated from his own with a gasp as he slid a finger down to your tight, sopping entrance and pressed it in. Both of you moaned in tandem when he slowly slid his finger in till the base of his finger was pressed against your entrance. "I'm gonna need you to put what you learned to use for me sweetheart, can you do that?" Kento asked, releasing the hold he had on your neck, settling just to rest his hand on your throat. You nodded at him, feeling yourself pulse and squeeze around his thick finger that stayed still inside you.

"Go ahead and rub your clit for me, small circles, just like I did." He instructed. You reached your shaky hand into your panties with his own and found your clit which was already wet with your juices from Nanami's previous touches. "Good girl." Nanami praised you as you followed his instructions. The second you started moving, Nanami did do. "A-ahhh-" Moan after moan fell from your lips when Nanami started curling his finger inside you and thrusting at the same time, sending intense shocks all throughout your body.

"This is your g-spot, some people can cum just from touching this spot here, but most of them need clitoral stimulation as well," Nanami said. You did your best to nod along with his words and listen in general, but the stimulation was so intense, it was making your head spin. "Ah ah, keep moving your finger." Kento tsked, slowing down his own when he saw how lazy and slow your fingers got while rubbing against your clit. It wasn't your fault he was making your body go slack. 

"We have plenty of time to figure out if you can cum just from penetration another day." Nanami voices, pressing his soft lips against your cheek in a kiss. "Right now I'm focused on bringing you to orgasm." The way in which Nanami so causally talked about these things made you dizzy. Sex and things of the like were usually taboo and embarrassing to talk about, but not to Nanami, and he was determined to make you feel the same way about it.

"I'm gonna add another finger okay?" Kento asked, slowing down his thrusting inside you. "Yeah, uh-huh." You responded, half listening to his words. Nanami smiled to himself as he watched your eyes fall shut, your finger now rapidly rubbing circles against your clit shamelessly as you lost yourself in the pleasure. Nanami pulled the first finger out and slowly reinserted it with a second one. He spread his fingers a bit as he slid them inside your warm walls, trying to stretch you out so you were able to take something bigger later on.

You winced in discomfort when he scissored his fingers inside you, but that discomfort soon diminished when he curled his fingers against that same spongey spot against your walls, making you see stars behind your eyes. "H-harder, Ken fuck me harder." The man behind you was unable to suppress the groan that slipped between his lips from your shameless words, his hips canting against your ass, rubbing his cock against the inside of his boxers at your shameless words. 

"For a virgin, you're surprisingly needy. You sure you haven't done this before? Did you just want me to baby you?" Kento teased, picking up the pace of his fingers as he spoke. Moan after wonton moan spilled from your lips, your body thrashing and jolting against his as the pleasure from your g-spot and clit combined to form a ball inside your stomach. "N-no, I haven't I- promise." You stuttered out, gasps and whines cutting you off as you got closer and closer to the edge. 

"I'm teasing, sweetheart. You are close though aren't you?" He asked, noticing how your pussy clenched around his fingers more frequently. "You gonna cum for me? Gonna orgasm all over my fingers?" Nanami groaned, the squelching from your sopping cunt going straight to his neglected dick. "F-fuck yes, I- I think so y-yes." You cried, thrashing your head from side to side agaisnt his chest.

Your hand that still held his hand against your throat squeezed tightly. He noticed your fingers slow down on your clit at the same time, a telltale sign that you were close. Nanami had a feeling you needed both clitoral stimulation and penetration to get you to reach your high, and he was determined to make you finish. "Doing so well my love, keep rubbing your clit, you can't stop, okay? I know you can do it, almost there." Nanami's reassuring words helped you focus on putting all your strength into your finger that rubbed back and forth agaisnt your clit.

Suddenly, your chin was being pushed up and Nanami's lips connected with yours in a sloppy kiss once more. Kento groaned into your mouth at the feeling of your pussy constricting his fingers. His wrist started to ache from curling his fingers against your tight walls so repetitively, but he knew if he stopped, you wouldn't cum. Your desperate whines and moans against his lips aided in fueling his tired wrist to continue on and finish you off.

"Kento- I'm- I'm cumming-" You whined high pitched against his lips, your legs shaking as they fought to push against his own that held yours open. It was getting harder and harder to kiss him back as your body went ridged, your mouth opening in a wide O, and your eyes rolling back in your head. "That's it, right there, yeah-" Nanami's own jaw dropped and he watched with awe as your body convulsed with pleasure.

He moaned with you as if he was cumming himself, his body curling forward with yours as you came, your legs shaking and cunt trambling around his fingers. Your own hand had stopped rubbing your clit, just resting against it as you came, no longer having the strength to touch yourself as you orgasm for the first time. Nanami continued curling his fingers against your g-spot until the spasms had stopped and you slapped his wrist with your hand, letting him know it was getting to be too intense. 

"Fuck- fuck-" You gasped, your body stayed curled over yourself as Nanami leaned back, separating his chest from your back. The sound of a zipper followed by rustling, then skin rubbing on skin brought you down from your high completely. When you tried to turn around, Nanami pushed your upper back down again, forcing you to stay bent over like you were. You could hear his heavy breathing and gasps from behind you. You knew exactly what he was doing. 

Leaning forward, you placed your hands on the bed in front of you and spun around, sitting on your knees between Nanami's thighs. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you did so well." Nanami praised, looking into your eyes as he stroked himself off. Your eyes trailed down to his thick cock, and you gasped in awe at the size of his cock and how wet and flushed it was. He must've been really holding back. 

Nanami's large hand caressing the side of your face brought your attention back to his eyes, away from the mess that was between his legs. "Don't worry, I'm almost done. Just couldn't take it anymore." Nanami rushed through his words, obviously drunk off your orgasm. Your heart was racing out of your chest. You wanted to help him but you had no idea how to. It seemed unfair for you to get off with his help and not give him the same treatment in return.

A moment of confidence washed over you, and you reached out to grab his wrist, stopping him from touching himself. "Sweetheart really, I'm almost there, it's oka-" "Use my pussy." Your words hit Nanami like a freight train. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He squeezed the base of his cock tightly to prevent himself from busting a nut all over himself right then in there from your words alone. 

"What?" Nanami asked, his eyebrows furrowing together. "You can fuck me." You said again, nodding at him. "You... you stretched me out, right? I can take it." Nanami swallowed hard and pulled his lip between his teeth, his head knocking back against the pillows for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. He didn't want to pressure you into doing something you weren't ready for, although you seemed to really want it. 

Nanami released his cock and cradled your face with both hands, making you look into his eyes. "Are you sure?" He asked, summiting to the idea surprisingly quickly, you were expecting a little more pushback. "I'm sure." You nodded, placing your hands over his own that held your face. Nanami's cock twitched, bobbing heavily between his legs in the open air, hastily pulled out from his boxers and pants. "Then... please lay flat on the bed with your stomach against the sheets.

Your heart raced as you listened to Nanami rip the condom package open behind you. The pillow he stuffed under your hips before you laid down was putting a nice pressure on your pelvis, making you squirm in anticipation. A large hand pressing into the sheets by your head brought you back to reality. You saw the shadow of Nanami's much larger figure behind yours as he hovered over your body, stroking his cock over your ass.

"Keep your thighs together, you can even cross your ankles over one another, I read that feels good for some women." You felt like cumming already. Nanami's show of intelligence about the female body made you want to scream, but you settled on nodding, wrapping your arms around the pillow under your head for support as you let out a noise of understanding. 

"If it becomes too much or you need to stop at any point, let me know," Nanami instructed, waiting until he heard a verbal answer from you before he readied himself. Nanami took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes, reminding himself not to get carried away or be too hard with you. "Okay, relax for me," Nanami instructed. His large hand gripped your thigh to pull your ass to the side so he could get a better view of your pussy from the back as he prepared himself to put it in. 

"Nanami, I can take it. I'm not going to break." You whispered into the pillow, words Nanami made sure not to miss. You closed your eyes when you felt Nanami's chest tickle against your back. A kiss was pressed against your temple, making you shut your eyes as the kiss was lasting. "Thank you, sweetheart. You always take such good care of me." Nanami whispered into your ear as he rubbed his cock agaisnt your hole.

You felt a heat rush over your skin at the feeling of his hard cock touching your cunt. It felt weird, hot, hotter than you imagined. Nanami gripped his cock hard at the base and pressed his fat tip against your hole, thrusting his hips forward against your ass slowly as he inserted his cock inside you. The two of you gasped in tandem when his tip penetrated your walls and his cock split you open.

Nanami watched as your eyes rolled back in your head, your pussy clenching and squeezing mercilessly around him. "Please, r-relax your cunt honey, I can't get inside you if you're like this," Nanami begged, feeling his orgasm build up inside himself already. It had been a while since he last got laid... a long while, he knew he wasn't going to last long, but neither were you, so it would work out perfectly. 

"It's not me- y-you're so big." You whined, trying to relax your cunt around him but it didn't seem to do anything at all. Nanami bit his lip at your words and dropped his chin to look at where the two of you were connected, his cock throbbing against your walls at the sight of your tiny cunt sucking him in perfectly. "Yeah? My cock is big?" Nanami teased, his voice deep and raspy as he fully pressed his hips flush against your ass, smiling to himself when you tried to scoot your body up on the bed, trying to escape how deep he was inside you.

"Y-yeah, fuck-" You whined, crossing your ankles over one another. Your clit was being stimulated between your thighs, bringing you the perfect relief as Kento slowly thrust his cock in and out of you. "Can you feel how deep it is inside you?" He asked, emphasizing his words with a mean, hard thrust, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. The way you were squeezing your thighs together made the stimulation and pleasure on his end ten times more intense, as each time he pulled out, his cock was still being squeezed by your ass and thighs pressed together. 

"'S so deep-" You whined, your eyes rolling back in your head. Nanami's resolve snapped at that moment. You sounded so fucked out and horny, he was unable to stop [ his hips from moving into yours. He quickly found a pace as he thrust his cock inside you, your pussy squelching with every thrust. Each time he fucked his cock inside your walls, it felt like your intestines had to expand to make room for his girth, but it was all rewarded each time he rammed his hard cockhead into your sweet spot so deep inside you.

"Oh god, right there!" You cried, your body jolting when Kento angled his hips in a way that allowed him to slap his cock into the most sensitive part of you with each thrust. Nanami placed his other hand by your head, allowing him more momentum to fuck into you as he was in a steadier position. "Yeah, right here? Is this your sweet spot?" Nanami cooed, feeling his balls throb with the need to fill you up with each thrust.

You nodded dumbly, drool dribbling out of your mouth and onto the pillow from how lax your mouth was. Nanami wanted to kiss you so bad, but he didnt want to move too much and jeopardize the position he was in right now, as he was fucking into you just right. "Do you need me to play with your clit?" Nanami offered, feeling his orgasm creep up on him faster than he expected, even though he knew he wasn't going to last.

"N-no, I'm gonna f-finish like this." You cried, tensing your pelvis and abs as you felt your own high grow closer and closer. Nanami nodded at your words, his eyes darting between your ass that ripped with each thrust and your eyes that rolled back in your head each time he pounded you. Nanami brought his hips back enough to where his cock was almost completely pulled out of you, just his tip remaining inside your walls before he slammed his hips agaisnt your ass, shoving his entire length inside your cunt.

You were unable to speak as your high washed over you unexpectedly like a freight train. Your entire body went tense, and your cunt squeezed impossibly tighter around Nanami's cock like a vice, making him stutter in his thrusts as you came all over his cock. "Oh god-" Nanami groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head and his head dangling limply in front of him as your pussy pulsed rhythmically around him. 

"I'm cumming, c-cumming-" Nanami did his best to warn you before he finished, but his orgasm caught him off guard much like your own, so he was only able to groan out a small warning before wonton groans and moans were spilling from his lips and his cock shot hot ropes of his seed into the condom. Nanami's body jerked and his abs clenched as he came, hard.

His hips stilled against your own, just twitching and jerking as he came inside you. You could feel his cock kick and throb as he filled up the condom, the warmth from his seed burning your walls and warming you up from the inside out. Kento hissed as he pulled out of your tight cunt, apologizing when you made a sound of discomfort as well. You forced your tired body to roll over to the side to look at Nanami.

The man looked disheveled and exhausted. A deep blush spread across his face and down under the V of his collared shirt, his hair was ruffled and his forehead was dripping with sweat. He looked so focused as he slid the used condom off his softening cock, letting the heavy appendage fall against his thigh as he tied it in a knot and placed it on the edge of the bed for himself to throw away later. 

He found your eyes once he was finished, a smile gracing his features as he tucked his cock back in his boxers and crawled over to you, wrapping you in his embrace. He rested his head on your chest as you cradled his head with your arms, your legs wrapping around his torso. "You did so well for me, made me feel so good sweetheart, I'm so proud of you." 

You nuzzled your head against Kento's, feeling your heart swell. "Thank you for trusting me." You said, referring to when you told him you were ready and you could take it. Kento lifted his head and leaned forward to press a kiss against your lips. "Of course my love." He responded. "I need to clean you up soon, but I understand if you need a minute to recover," Nanami said, laying his head back down on your chest.

Although he felt sleepy, he knew he had to fully take care of you first before he let himself drift off. You just lost your virginity and just had an orgasm, you were bound to be a little emotional and more fragile right now. "A few more minutes." You replied, feeling your body melt under the comforting weight of him. You felt so loved and protected as he laid on top of you, pressing kisses to your chest and collarbones.

[bitchimasnake-sss]

HI SWEETIEEEE, LOVE UR WRITING

Can you PLEAAAAASEEE make reader with breeding kink? Like, how would Sanji, Luff and ussop react to their partner asking for being filled/breed?

Btw, tell me I'm cool for asking without anon or I'll cry.

UR THE COOOOLEST FOR ASKING WITHOUT ANON GIRLY!! i salute your confidence, also ur veryyyy pretty (i stalk you through your window) and also here's the filth you want mwuahh 😚😚

𐙚thinkin' about: the monster trio, ace 'n law! vs breeding kink!

NOT PROOFREAD. JUST PURE HORNY. cw: they all kinda wanna be dads. im sorry. i just wrote it. they wanna be dads now. its cannon. pussydrunk!men. nsfw includes: praise, a lot of overstimulation and talks of "being a dad" and "getting a mini-me", penetration, cunnilingus, loads of creampie [obviously.] and smex. lots of smex. m.list

🍒monkey d. luffy: going insane at the mere idea.

❤️"ngh~ hah again." from the way luffy said it, you're not quite sure whether he was asking or telling. but you weren't sure of a lot of things like where he ended and you began, which round were you on, yada yada. eitherways, you shouldn't worry that pretty little head of yours, not when you're the reason the captain of your ship was panting like this against you. hot huffs clashing against your skin with every strained movement of his hips. all because you had had the audacity to come up to the captain of the ship, pull him by his shirt to your room, strip and tell him to "fill you up." like are you insane?! did you want to kill him?! ❤️you're lucky that your captain has a strong heart, and an even stronger will... because now his hips were bucking into you wildly, hot stings against your thighs where he collided over and over and over again. whispering like a man gone mad, "fill you up, p-please. you wanted th-that right? you want me to fuck you like this? over 'n over 'gain?" and you must have been on a mission from the marines cause you just caught your trembling, bottom lips and hiccupped out a soft, "y-yes, please, cap'n." oh that wretched nick-name, goddamit. ❤️and now he's rutting into you harder, his tongue pushing against yours in such a lewd display of love. when he parted from from you, strings of glistening saliva connected you both. before they dropped downwards, stagnating against his bottom lips. "gonna have a little me runnin' around, i promise." monkey d luffy grinned, so pussy-drunk from the way you were clenching and gnawing at his aching dick. you wanted it just as much as he did, huh? with short, persistent thrusts into your gummy walls, he's cumming inside you once again, "one more time, p-pretty. promise this'll be the last. hah gotta make sure i get it right, y-yeah?" liar. he said that the last three times too.

🍀roronoa zoro: daddy or father? you choose. ps: both.

💚whatever you expected, this was not it. when you had waltzed into zoro's room while he was napping, closed the lock behind you, straddled his hips and huskily beg for him to fill you up, you didn't expect this. you didn't expect the man who was reluctant to even think about a family to prep you for his cock like he wanted a kid right fucking now. 💚you didn't expect the goddamn demon of the sea, former marine-hunter and the current first mate of your crew to caress your cheek so softly, to look you in your eyes with nothing but devotion as he thrusted his fingers into you so mean. "you're serious?" he mumbled against your skin and you nodded, half-delirious from the unfaltering pumps and your crescendo into another orgasm, "ye-yeah, i am, zoro." the swordman grinned, chasing his action with a mean slap to your aching cunt. fuck. and for a moment you saw something inherently holy in his action, "you want me to fill you up? you wanna make me a dad, angel?" "ngh ohmygod—" your eyes rolled back as his nimble fingers messily circle your clit before pinching the nub slowly. his voice husked, "my girl wants me to fuck her till i get a mini-me around?" 💚of course you cannot now blame roronoa zoro for the way he was fucking you without any breaks. not when you were the one who had nodded and assured him that a little him would be soo cute. "me? a dad?" zoro mumbled again. and for someone who only talked in grunt and groans and huffs when he was fucking you like he was going to ruin you, he sure was talking a lot. he repeated, "shit, my girl's gonna make me a dad?" "zoro, no-no more, please—" you pawed at his biceps, trying to pry him off of you. you could practically feel yourself filled to the brim, the milky white pouring out of your so obscenely and collecting at the base of his pretty cock with every little thrust into you. "no, no. no." he almost sounded cocky when he pulled his dick back and used his fingers to stuff them back in, "come on, now. don't waste any." he grinned, feral, "'m gonna be a fucking dad." jesus christ, what kind of demon did you let out tonight?

🫐vinsmoke sanji: living out his dreams (while buried in you).

💙honestly, you must have had courage pouring through you veins to ask sanji to fill you up. him and fatherhood were no joke. vinsmoke sanji had seen you for exactly 1.52 seconds when he realized he would have a family with you immediately, or get rejected over and over till he gets you and then have a family with you. 💙"and th-then i'd get her whatever she wants." sanji rambled on, hips stuck in a periodic rhythm as his tip caught against your g-spot again and again. "s-sanji." you stuttered, trying to throw your head over your shoulders to meet his flushed face. he had held your back flush against his chest, face reddened and lips trembling as he kissed your neck. your heart fluttered at his reaction, "there's- we d-don't have a kid yet... y'know that, right?" because from the way he was planning, it sure seemed like the kid was alive and well in his mind. the blonde nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, his finger slowly thumbing your clit, using your wetness to his leverage to bring yourself to destruction once more, "so, what, love? i'll fuck you till i get it, right?" 💙and who were you to deny him of that when his fingers glided through your folds easily and he rocked his hips gently, trying to coax another orgasm out of your tired bones. his breath was hot against your shoulder, "we're gonna have such a cute kid, r-right, love?" "mhm, w-we will." you nodded, the pit in your stomach tightening cruelly at his candied words. and he smiled against your shoulder, words slurring at the thoughts, "god, she'd be so cute." "sanji," you whined, your voice shaking as he finally pulled himself out. the warm fluid cascaded down your folds and sanji tsked in mock distress, "shh, looks like i gotta do it all over again." don't complain. you're the one who made him this way.

🦋portgas d. ace: don't ask for what you can't handle.

🧡"a-ace." your voice waivered pathetically as his hot breath played against your trembling pussy. his grin was cocky, eyes hidden by his hat as he husked against your wetness, "what?" "s-stop teasing." you tried, only for him to laugh at your pathetic efforts to sound stern. he tipped his face back, eyes glinting with something malignant, "you started it, baby." "i wasn't teasing." 🧡oh so you weren't teasing when you walked into his room, interrupted his paperwork and asked him so, so nicely to fill you up tonight? ace's eyebrows quirked up in part-surprise, part-delight as he slowly kissed your inner thigh. eyes never leaving yours. he smiled all over again, "you want me knock you up? give you my kid? awh, want me to fuck you till i get it right?" oh and the way you averted your eyes, looking oh-so-shy at his question, it had ace wanting to ruin you all over again. 🧡you were spread so deliciously on his bed, your glistening cunt on display just for him to edge you and watch you drip over and over again. the sheets underneath were soiled from your juices, he was sure his crew-mates would tease him to no extent with the way you were screaming his name but none of that mattered. when you writhed against him, your aching hands pushing his pretty face away and pulling him back into you all over again, ace hummed, "what? too much already? but we haven't even started." not when he took his hat off and gave you bestial grin. untamed, animalistic, primal. portgas d ace just made a promise, "when i finally give you what you want, don't you dare run away. or i think we both know how it'll end." it'll end with you stuffed full of him. it'll end with his finger past your pretty lips, with you choking on your own moans and his thick digits as he pumped you full. it'll end with him humming, "running away? no. don't you dare." after all, portgas d. ace never broke a promise.

🪻trafalgar d. water law: doc please don't knock her up.

💜your boyfriend was a doctor. surely, you must have more common sense than to bother him while he was already drowning under paperwork with the ideas of a little you and him running around. surely. "'s a terrible id-idea," he stuttered uncharacteristically as you has fiddled with his shirt, giving him such a sickly sweet smile, "why? you don't wanna?" "no—" his voice faltered as you slowly perched upon his lap and undid his button one by one. "'s just a kid is a huge responsibility, and we're not r-ready," his breath hitched when you kissed his neck. your words stilled against the column of his throat, "pretty please, doc?" it's like you lived to raise his blood pressure. 💜so, now back was was pressed into the cold wood of his table, your knees pulled apart on his broad chest. his dick slipped in and out of you as his tattooed fingers pinched your clit. "l-law, please." your eyes were brimming with tears. aching, fat droplets that fell down as he continued to fuck you on that creaking wooden desk. you babbled as he rut into you harder, flushed tip bumping against your abused g-spot, "'m done, i-i'm sorry ngh, c'mon." "you're hah— crying?" don't let anyone know but maybe law was a bit of a sadist with the way he grinned, "i thought you wanted this?" 💜good point. you were the one who wanted to be pinned down onto that wretched desk and fucked into till you lost the feeling in your legs and your body trembled with every shallow way he drilled into you. so, take it. any faltering whines and moans were pointless. his actions were unhurried, pace rhythmic even as you spasmed around him due to the overstimulation. as your velvety holes gnawed at him, the doctor found himself spilling into you with little to no sanity left in him. "hah fuck—" law breathed heavily, eyes going wide as he pulled out and saw his milky essence dripping out of you so obscenely. his gaze fell upon your flushed face. your eyes were clenched shut, mouth parted in utter bliss. all reason and rhyme left the man as he found himself nudging his tip back into your trembling cunt, "shit. come on, baby. you wanted this." he isn't lying. you did want it.

a/n: first time writing law, lowkey nervous teehee 🤭🤗. i come out of the writers block on and off so im sorry im shit at posting. also i know i wrote ace n law longer okay I KNOW DONT TELL ME SHHH. i just got carried away 👉🏻👈🏻. couldn't write ussop for the life of my but i hope you like it anyways @shinysp4rk mwuah <3 m.list

[ghoulphile]

janey's dad | c.h./the ghoul | part 01

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 3.7k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; age gap, hair pulling, teasing, making out, mutual pining, lipstick kink, stockings, frottage, porn w/ feelings, porn w/ plot, mild angst w/ happy ending, divorced!coop, babysitter!reader, pre-war/bomb ➥ summary | “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --” ➥ notes | i'm so sorry this is later than it should be. i am unfortunately a corporate slave and this fic just did not want to cooperate 🫠 there are a lot more things planned and this fic is turning into a bit of a beast (20+ pages and counting rip lmao) so i've decided to split it into two parts to make it more manageable for myself mostly un-beta'd atm a special thanks to @corinthianism for all her lovely help ❤️!!

feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | masterlist

Divorce is hard, but being a divorcé is downright hellish.

One of the ugliest things in the world, if Cooper Howard has any say. At least when he was a Marine, they told him where to point his gun, where to aim; nameless threats vanishing with a quick squeeze of the trigger.

Here, these ‘enemies’ aren’t enemies — not really.

It’d be easier if they were.

Worse still, they have names he holds as dearly as his own. There’s Barb, whip smart and always so clever. Then Janey, the light of his life and so sweet his teeth ache.

Once upon a time, life was sweeter than apple pie on Sundays.

Then came the separation.

Afterwards, he finds it hard to look at what’s left of his family without losing breath like a horse kick to the chest. Their absence rips open a hole inside him ten miles wide, its edges jagged and wrong.

And when he can’t take the silence anymore, fingers of malt liquor help dull the ache, though it’ll never be enough to mend what’s broken.

See, war’s something he understands.

But these domestic battlefields where he sits across from his ex-wife while lawyers barter this weekend and that holiday?

How he struggles to meet his daughter’s eye every time she asks if he’s coming home?

When Barb keeps the house and the money while he keeps the scrapbooks and the dog?

He doesn’t — can't — refuses to comprehend.

Because in what world can you reconcile looking down the barrel of a smoking gun only to find the woman you love staring back, finger on the trigger? Left out to hang as Vault-Tec orchestrates his downfall.

The true depth of their involvement is unknown, but it’s no coincidence his bank accounts dried up faster than the Mojave in June. The ink still wet when the media snapped up the story of his failed marriage.

Thus, his reputation (rather what’s left of it) unraveled faster than a spool of thread.

Knocked on his ass and kept there by a boot heel crushing his windpipe. Whose? He hasn’t got a fucking clue.

But whoever they are, they’re making sure he stays a washed up nobody who struggles to land a call back, much less pay his monthly alimony on time.

See what we can do? You were America’s favorite gunslinger - now look at you. Mind your place.

Hell, millions used to scream his name.

Nowadays people whisper it behind their hands like a dirty secret, “Oh, did you hear? Cooper Howard…” as they dissect pieces of his life into bite-sized Before’s and After’s. “Hah! Serves him right. Y’know, I never liked him much.”

While he grits his teeth and swallows his bitterness with a smile, he hates how he can’t protect Janey from snide reporters and nosy strangers. Juggling actor-father-divorcé with fumbling hands.

It’s only been six months; a heartbeat, a lifetime, and already he’s scraped thin like butter over too much bread.

Something’s gotta give.

After all, he’s only one man.

But just when it's bleakest, the clouds part.

A young woman moves in next door, the first bright thing that’s come his way in a long, long while.

At first, he kept his distance.

Exchanged vague hello’s and how-are-you’s. Then Janey took a shine; always so friendly and eager to talk about her latest books.

Any reservations he might’ve had died when he saw how enamored you are with her.

Only made sense that over time small pleasantries turned into playdates. Then those playdates turned into sleepovers.

Before long, you’re watching her when a gig runs late.

Rustling up grub and tucking her into bed more often than not these days. And when he slinks in through the door, knees aching and stripped to the bone, there you are with a shy smile and a warm meal.

So what if he takes himself in hand after you leave, stroking his cock to the thought of you down on your knees in that pretty little sundress?

Imagines the wide stretch of your ruby lips as you swallow him down, lipstick smeared an awful mess?

Cums hard to the fantasy of your teary eyes and hiccupy breaths as you choke?

What you don’t know can’t hurt you.

After all, he’s a gentleman... he promises to keep his hands to himself.

“All right, Sugar Bomb, it’s bedtime.”

Bundled in navy bedding up to her nose, Janey’s wide brown eyes peer up at you from beneath a riot of frizzy curls. Roosevelt, her ever faithful companion, plasters himself to her side. The tip of his tail swishes once, twice before falling limp.

“Ah, c’mon guys. Don’t look at me like that.” You sigh with a fond shake of the head, hip popping out to rest against the doorframe. “I don’t make the rules, I just follow ‘em.”

A muffled response sounds from the lump of little girl, “Nmfhm.”

Squinting, you dip your head and tap the side of your ear, "Pardon?"

“Mnhfmmmm.”

“Ye—eah… Didn’t catch that, Mumbler.”

Janey tugs down the blanket, her mouth pursed in a moue of displeasure. “I said,” she crosses her arms with a huff, “not until Dad gets home.”

Shit.

“M’sorry, baby. He’s still gonna be a while.” Walking across the room, you stop beside the bed and motion your hand back and forth. “Scooch over.”

Gangly limbs fumble as Janey wiggles into the middle of the mattress, her feet tangling in the blankets. Roosevelt takes a toe to the nose during the transition, but flops across her knees all the same.

Together they settle with a bounce of springs.

In the open space, you slide in.

The bed sinks under your weight, a plume of rich cologne tickling your nose; mint-spiced citrus. Cooper. Your stomach swoops, and your heart trips.

“I didn’t see him at breakfast — or lunch!” A pout tugs at her mouth. “Not even dinner. I gotta go home tomorrow. So when am I gonna see him?”

“Oh, bug.” You sigh, propping yourself up on your elbow. “Your dad’s been real busy at work. And I know that’s been hard for you, but I promise to make sure he’s here for breakfast tomorrow.”

“D’you mean it?” Her cold nose digs into your skin. “Me and Roosevelt miss him so much.”

Cuddled into your chest, Janey tosses an arm around your back. Her fuzzy head rests in the crook of your arm, springy curls tickling your skin.

You squeeze her tight and trace your fingertips over her forehead.

“I can do you one better,” you say, bopping the tip of her nose just to hear her giggle - a soft sound that sits warm and gooey in your chest. “I pinkie-promise.”

Her finger loops around yours, so small and fragile.

“I’ll even make pancakes. How’s that sound for a promise?”

“Oh, yes, please! I think Dad will like that,” a wide yawn cuts her off mid-sentence. “He’s sad, but he always smiles when you make food.”

Janey’s words — unexpected as they are sudden — cut so deep it steals the breath from your lungs. You flounder, your heart a throbbing bruise in your chest.

“... Then pancakes it is.”

As if nothing happened at all, she asks, “Do I have to go to bed now?”

“Afraid so, little miss.” Your responding chuckle sounds stilted even to your own ears. “Just you wait. When you wake up, Dad’ll be home.”

“Fi—ine, but I want extra pancakes.” Janey pauses, considers you with narrow eyes, then adds, “With syrup!”

“Whatever you want,” you say with an indulgent smile. “Now... time to sleep. It’s really past your bedtime.”

She gives you one last squeeze then lets you tuck her in nice and tight, blankets pulled up to her chin. You drop a kiss on her forehead while Roosevelt re-settles on the pillow beside her after a quick scratch behind the ears. 

Everything in order, you turn to go only for a little hand to stop you.

“Yes?” you reply, glancing at her from over your shoulder.

“... can you put on one of Dad's movies?”

The tremble in her voice - like she’s about to get scolded - breaks your heart clean down the middle. Stitching on a soft smile, you nod and walk to the darkened TV set in the room's corner.

After fiddling with the nobs, static flashes to life.

“The Man from Deadhorse okay?”

The holotape sliding into the track swallows the sound of her tiny “Yeah.” Starting up with a whirl of machinery, the second-hand Radiation King flickers to life in black-and-white.

A vast plain and bright sky stretches across the screen.

Then Sugarfoot creeps into frame with the one and only Cooper Howard sitting astride the noble steed. The sheriff’s badge on his chest glints in the sun.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, already half-way to sleep.

“Anything for you, baby. Sleep tight.”

Flicking off the lights, you leave the door cracked. Walk away pretending like hearing her whisper goodnight to the TV doesn’t lance through you like lightning.

The desire to whisk her into your arms and soothe all of her ails is almost impossible to ignore.

Somehow, you distract yourself by wiping up the table, then by fixing a plate of dinner for whenever Cooper rolls in. Though all the while, how brokenhearted Janey sounded sits in the back of your mind like a leaden weight.

When Cooper stumbles into the living room, it’s half past midnight.

You’d gotten up to greet him, curled as you were in an armchair reading, when something about the stern line of his mouth gave you pause.

Where the usual lighthearted greetings lingered, a pensive stillness trembled to life.

Tension crackles through the air; a held breath of agitation. By the faraway gaze and defeated slump of his broad shoulders, it’s plain to see the night didn’t go as intended. And no matter how much you long to soothe, you can’t.

After all, he’s not yours to touch.

Instead, you offer a sympathetic smile and ask, “Rough night, huh?”

Cooper ignores the prompt, squeezing past with a brief touch to your elbow as he makes a beeline for the dry bar. The heat of his body is there and gone in a flash, his cologne teasing your senses. He says, “Thought you’d be asleep by now.”

Your heart flutters in your throat. “Ah,” you lick your lips, “well, I was going to finish my chapter first.”

Humming, he turns his back to you and fiddles with high balls and decanters. The tink of crystal glassware fills the air as he speculates which alcohol goes best with his mood. 

“Thanks again for watching Janey.” He nods in approval and fixes his whiskey neat. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, Mr. Howard.” You shrug. “She’s a sweetheart.”

He shoots you a dry look from over his shoulder, stirring the dark amber of his drink with a forefinger. When he sucks his skin clean with a soft pop - a flash of a pink tongue taunting, teasing - your stomach swoops.

God, I wonder what else his mouth can do.

Flustered, you clear your throat and stare at a spot on the wall.

“How many times do I gotta tell you to call me Coop?” he says, digging through some drawers until he finds what he’s searching for: a lighter. “It must be a million and one by now.”

Flint sparks as flames jump, eating away at the end of a cigarette. Cooper inhales in short little puffs, pulling on the filter. His cheeks hollow, the shadows enhancing the cut of his jaw before the tip catches alight.

“Well,” he exhales, his gaze catching yours through a plume of smoke as he turns, brow raised. “Anything to say for yourself?”

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” you chuckle.

The corner of his mouth lifts in a lopsided smirk. “I’ll drink to that.” He knocks back the last finger of whiskey before refilling with gin.

Springs groan in protest when he drops to the couch, settling in with an outstretched arm and wide spread thighs.

“It’s been a long fucking day,” he rasps.

Gulping, you try to ignore the space at his feet.

The stirrings of desire provoked by the urge to sink to your knees and fill it with your body, to ease tension from those shoulders with your hands, your mouth, your cunt — if he’d let you.

“You heading home?” Nursing the fresh drink, he swallows a mouthful, only to hiss low through his teeth at the chemical burn. His throat bobs, framed by the open collar of his shirt. “Whew! Goddamn, that’s strong.”

“No, I can stay for a while.” A bird on a wire, you perch on the cushion beside him. “Got nothing else planned for tonight, anyhow.”

Cooper snorts. “I doubt that very much. A sweet young thing like you,” he motions towards you with his glass, “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of fellas calling, especially on a Friday night. Don’t waste your time with me.”

“That’s not why I--” you stop yourself short.

Save for the bustling LA avenue right outside the complex, the apartment itself is stone silent for several heartbeats. Words hover on the back of your tongue, catching in the bend of your throat molasses thick.

Meanwhile, Cooper continues to swirl the alcohol in his glass.

Maybe in a different life, you wouldn’t hesitate to express yourself.

But here — with him — you shouldn’t.

Christ sake, he’s a grieving divorcé, you chastise yourself. The last thing he needs is me trying to lay one on him.

When you speak, his name glides off your lips for the first time, clementine sweet, “... Cooper, I’m not wasting my time. I enjoy spending it with Janey - and you.”

“Well,” he husks, hooded eyes dragging down your visage in a slow once-over, “you’re the first one in a long while to feel that way, sweetheart.”

Dripping like honey whiskey from Cooper’s lips, the simple phrase burns its way down-down-down until it blooms like liquid fire in your belly. Warms you all the way to your toes as your heart pounds against your ribcage.

“I mean it.” Your knuckles twist in the pleats of your sundress, bolts of blue fabric bunched around your knees. “Everything I do is because I want to.”

The flash of red nails plucking at the sheer nylon of your stockings snaps up his attention, his gaze snagging - staying as he chases the curve of your exposed leg, hungry.

He wets his lips, and tenses his jaw when he spots how the soft fat of your thigh dimples in because of your garter. “That’s awful sweet of you to say.”

You tremble beneath the intensity of his attention.

Greedy.

Little kisses of awareness spark bright along the path his eyes carve like the caress of shy fingertips.

However, before you’re able to confront him about his interest, the heat leaches from his expression, grows mute and cold like a muzzled dog. 

Readjusting the waistband of his slacks with a tug, he says, “I know you got better things to do than keep an old man company.”

Irritation sparks. “Cooper--”

“If this is about paying you for tonight,” his lips quirk into a sheepish smile, “I won’t be able to yet.” He scrubs a hand through the stubble peppered along his jaw. “The gig tonight didn’t… Well, it doesn’t matter.”

“No, that’s not what I --”

He plows on, “Anyway, the one I’ve got tomorrow should be enough. How about I stop by around seven o’clock? I’ll treat you to dinner as an apology.”

Frustration bubbles beneath the surface of your skin, antagonism thrumming through your veins. Your hands shake almost as much as your voice. “Cooper!”

“I… uh, yes?” He blinks.

Your brows furrow. “You don’t get it,” you say. “I mean, you truly don’t know?”

“I’m afraid there’s a lot I don’t get. You’re gonna have to be more particular.”

Maybe not said in so many words (or at all) but actions speak far louder.

Otherwise, why else would you spend most of your time in his apartment, fill every spare moment with Janey, and reserve evenings for his company?

Hell, you even cook and clean!

Almost scream your interest from the rooftops, and it’s obvious to everyone but him, it seems.

Here you are thinking he was preserving your dignity whenever he ignored a passing comment or lingering touch when, in fact, he’d been oblivious to their existence to begin with.

How a man can be so obtuse when you’re throwing yourself at him is beyond you.

If he wasn’t so captivating…

“Are you kidding me,” you ask, mindful of your tone, “how could you not know?” You throw your hands in the air. “I’ve been — for months!”

“Well, I don’t have a goddamn clue what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he snarks, setting his glass on the table. “Care to enlighten me?”

Fine. If that’s how he wants to play, let’s play.

When he moves to take another drag from his cigarette, you strike, fingers locking around his wrist mid-lift. And although his glassy eyes narrow, he keeps his hand still.

Waiting to see what you'll do.

Tucking your knee under you for balance, you bend forward and watch his face from beneath your lashes. When your lips wrap around the filter, a dark hunger bleeds into his expression, his pulse a steady thud against the pad of your thumb.

Inhaling, the cherry lights up, a flashbang in the dim overhead light.

Cooper’s breath hitches, and then you’re pulling away with a lungful of smoke; the taste of ash heavy on your tongue.

He tracks your movements with greed, gaze flicking for the briefest of moments past your chin before refocusing on the ring of red lipstick staining white paper.

“If you wanted one,” he chokes, gripping the back of the couch with white knuckles, “all you had to do was ask.”

With a coquettish grin, you exhale to the side and stare at him with hooded eyes. “Is that so?” Plucking the cigarette out of his limp hold, you stub it out in the ashtray. “What if I wanted to ask for something else, Mr. Howard?”

The next moment finds you deposited in his lap, his hands shooting out to grab at your waist only to freeze before they make contact.

“Woah! I--”

“Tell me something.”

Your lips caress the shell of his ear, sharing breath - sharing space as you plaster yourself to his front, arms looped over his shoulders. He jolts, body trembling with restraint.

“Would you give me what I wanted if I said please?”

The distance between you snaps taut with anticipation. “C-Coop,” he stutters. “Call me Coop.”

You hum. “Well, Coop, would you?”

“That depends almost entirely on what you’re asking for, sweetheart.”

Red nails skate along the back of his neck, play in the downy soft hair of his nape just to feel him shiver. And then you’re leaning back with your hands braced on his knees, your legs falling open in invitation.

The hem of your dress bunches around your waist, exposing the soft cotton of your underwear, and the darkened patch of slick soaking through.

“I think you know exactly what I want,” you purr. “Because you want it too. Don’t you?”

He bites down on a strangled moan when your hips arch forward, rocking the soft plush of your ass against the heavy weight of his thickening cock. The zipper digs into your skin as he tents the front of his slacks.

Mouth dropping open, his tongue flicks out to wet his lips - a slick circle of temptation that makes you clench. “I, uh, I don’t…”

Reaching between your splayed thighs, you hook a finger beneath your panties and pull the fabric aside. He jerks forward, exhaling hard at the flash of your soaked cunt and twitching clit.

“C’mon, be honest.”

With a sigh, you gather your arousal on the tips of your fingers.

Cooper’s gaze is a heavy weight pinning you in place as you pretend it’s him dragging his knuckles over the top of your mond. Him dragging calloused fingers up along sticky folds to play with your sensitive clit, ripping soft little mewls from your lips.

“Can’t you see what you do to me, Coop?” you say, pulling your hand away to show the webs of slick stretching between your fingers. “I’m so wet. Please, I’ve wanted you for so long…”

His hips rock against your ass in an aborted thrust. “Shit - shit!” Eyes slamming shut, he grits his teeth and digs his fingers into your sides hard enough to bruise. “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --”

“Why not?” Your hand brushes over his groin. “I can feel how hard you are.”

“It isn’t right, that’s why.” He stutters, stumbles over his words, “Besides, Janey…”

“I can be quiet,” you say, lips trembling. “I promise.”

“Goddamnit, you can’t say things like that and expect me not to --” Cutting himself off, strong fingers seize your chin and tilt until you’re met with Cooper’s severe expression, his scorching gaze. “You need to tell me now: are you sure this is what you want?”

There’s no hesitation, “Yes.”

In what world would you refuse?

The words barely pass your lips before Cooper’s bowing his dark head, mouth ravenous as it captures yours in a slick glide of bruising lips and hungry tongues.

He steals your breath, licks into your mouth and traces along the sensitive inside of your lip.

Pulse jump starting, your toes curl over the edge of the cushion and your thighs squeeze the barrel of his chest, kneecaps digging into his ribs.

“Oh,” a moan punches itself out of your throat - a breathy little thing swallowed up by his lips. “That’s--”

Anticipation swells, simmers between you like a band before it snaps. A strong forearm locks around your waist, tugging you into the cradle of his chest until you’re plastered from stem to stern.

Too hungry for tenderness as his free hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers catching in the briar of your hair and tugging at the roots.

You claw at his shoulders while sparks of pain ricochet down your neck, sufficing into a prickly flush that heats your blood. “Hnn, Cooper,” you gasp.

He murmurs your name through languid flicks of his tongue and sharp little nips of skin that leave your mouth tender and swollen. When he pulls away to survey his handiwork, his eyes are dark. Fathomless.

"I never thought I'd get the chance to kiss you like this," he says, wicking his thumb over the pillow of your bottom lip. "You taste as good as I imagined."

Dragging your nails across his scalp, you plead, “No more teasing - I can't take it.”

"Well," he grunts, fingers twisting up in your dress, “If that’s how you feel, then you better put those hips to good use and work for it, sweetheart."

part 2 dropping soon

[dawneternal]

now my head's splitting at the seams

✴︎ in the labyrinth of my pain, would you find me?

✴︎ Azriel x Valkyrie reader, platonic Cassian x reader

✴︎ Summary: you miss a few days of training, down with a bad migraine. It turns out Cassian has a few misconceptions about your condition and, possibly, about pain itself.

✴︎ Warnings: mentions of nausea and vomiting (no descriptions), pain, toxic positivity and ableism, internalized ableism, Cassian's a jerk in the first half. Also I'm so sorry for the tense changing back and forth 💀 I would definitely not call this one a masterpiece

✴︎ Word Count: 3.4k

AO3 Link / Writing Masterlist

✴︎ Notes: somehow writing out my feelings about having a migraine turned into something pretentious about pain and ableism. I think a lot about John Green's "pain is the opposite of language" and how much that's changed my perception of pain

Also listen I love Cassian and I have no problems with him but I had to pick someone to take my feelings out on I'm sorry 💛 also just want to acknowledge that everyone experiences migraines differently and it's not a topic I'm an expert on so I'm sorry if you don't feel well represented by this.

Tbh I could write several essays about the way pain and disability are handled in the acotar books but that's for another time.

Letting out a frustrated groan, you squeeze your eyes shut tighter and twist your knuckle into the pressure point at the base of your palm, chasing the momentary relief it'll give you from your nausea. It works for a minute, and you're considering making your way to the bathroom before another wave hits you when your bedroom door flies open.

"You're late," Cassian's voice bellows through the room and he doesn't see you wince. He strides into the room, footsteps booming across the floorboards, and he's left the door open behind him, letting a traitorous amount of light into your dark room. What good were black out curtains if your darkness was going to be invaded like this anyways?

"Oh my gods you've got to talk quieter," You curl tighter around yourself, head clutched in your hands.

"So you're hungover?" He stops near your bed, arms crossed as he towers over you.

"No, I have a migraine."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

You squint up at him, scowling, swallowing every bad word threatening to spill off your tongue. Though maybe he deserves it for coming into your room without asking.

"Please leave," You say quietly, all the venom you could usually imbue into your voice completely swallowed by your current condition.

"You've missed three days of training." He says by way of answering, definitely not following your request to lower his volume. "You can't coddle yourself like this."

His words punch the air from your lungs. Coddle? Something terrible is rising in your gut, along with the desperate thought that you can't deal with this right now.

"I'm not - this isn't - I don't think you understand how much it hurts." You scramble for words, cheeks heated from pain and anger.

"You've gotta push through it," He says, no hint of sympathy.

"Cassian please."

"I'm not leaving until you agree to come with me."

You don't have time to respond before you're running to the bathroom and throwing up whatever you'd managed to keep down last night, head throbbing with every movement.

Breathing hard, you lean back from the toilet and clutch your head in your hands. The silence rings in your ears and you aren't sure if Cassian is still there or if he finally took mercy on you and left, until his voice makes it's way to you, with just a hint of remorse in it -

"I'd better see you up there."

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Cassian did not see you at training that morning, and you're assuming you've bruised his ego because the next day he doubles down.

The thing is, Rhysand knew of your condition. The other priestesses knew. It's only Cassian being out of the loop and if he understood what a migraine felt like, you're certain he wouldn't be dragging you up there. You were used to dealing with people who didn't understand, had worked hard to learn how to give yourself kindness no matter what other people said. But it's like he knew exactly what things to say, what buttons to press to undo all of that progress.

It was like he'd pulled off your armor, piece by piece, leaving you cold and exposed. Going back to that world where weakness was your given name and it hurt worse than stepping into the ring and fighting the pain. If you could prove him wrong, just make it through a couple of hours, you could return to your sanctuary of darkness. And at least then, you wouldn't hate yourself on top of everything else.

So you followed him up to the training ring, struggling to open your eyes all the way in the morning light, hunched over to make the pain down your shoulders and neck just a bit more bearable. You sway on your feet, but Cassian either doesn't notice or doesn't care.

When he moves aside, revealing your small, huddled frame trailing beside him, Gwyn gasps.

"Cassian!" She cries, her tone scathing, and the hint of smug triumph slips from his face. It disappears completely as Gwyn rushes to your side, folding you into her arms to block your eyes from the light. You groan into her shoulder and go limp in her arms, grateful for the support.

Azriel stands to the side, watching with narrowed eyes. His arms are crossed over his chest like Cassian's, but there is no determination or judgment in his posture or expression. There's angry, crackling flames as he watches the redheaded Valkyrie thread her fingers through your hair and murmur soft comfort.

"She missed training all this week," Cassian says, but he's not barking any more. He's feeling a little bit small underneath the glares that pin him where he stands.

"Yeah, we know," Gwyn says, and it's the closest she's gotten to snapping at him in the whole time they've known each other. She turns to you and her eyes soften. "Let's get you back to bed, love."

"No," You murmur, guilt and shame bringing your resolve to the surface once more. You gently push her away to stand on your own, raising your squinted eyes to meet Cassian's. "I can do it. I'll be fine."

She watches you take shaky steps to the nearest mat and begin stretching, body obviously stiff from a few days in bed. You're conscious of all the eyes on you, far too sympathetic for your liking. This is exactly what you hated.

"Are we starting or not?" You let out a stiff laugh, too aware that your words are lightly slurred. That is absolutely not helping the hangover accusations.

The other priestesses shuffle to get into place, bumping into each other as they move to find their positions. There was still a horrible silence, crackling with fierce anger, all rippling in Cassian's direction. He halfheartedly called a few orders, visibly uncomfortable with the energy in the ring.

And you tried. You tried hard. To move your body through the stretches like normal. But your muscles protested every move, threatening to lock back up, sending stabs of pain through your skull. It didn't take long for the nausea to take over, forcing you to the edge of the ring, doubled over and dry heaving.

"This is ridiculous," Gwyn scoffs before she's at your side again. "You're going to back to bed."

"I will not be weak," You growl at her, panting as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, "I am not lazy."

Gwyn's head snaps around to find Cassian, mouth dropped open in fury as she silently dares him to confirm that he may have suggested weakness to you.

"You're not and you know it," She says softly, hauling you up and leading you away from the training ring. “Don't do that to yourself.”

Cassian is feeling like he's surrounded by wolves, all the glares that are being sent his way. He understands by now that he's messed up, and in front of a group that may not be easily inclined to forgive him. He's sure every single one of them has experienced the disbelief that he foolishly shoved your way. For their pain, or for anything else.

He thought you would snap back to your normal self after a bit of warming up, shake off your symptoms with a bit of movement and sunshine. You were strong enough to, if you wanted to. He'd seen it before. He thought you just didn't want to.

A small, firm hand lands on his arm and he finds himself looking down at Nesta. There's sympathy in her expression, but her eyes twinkle with the threat of a nasty bite if he dares to say anything stupid.

"She gets them after particularly bad flashbacks," Nesta says, "Or sometimes they're just random. Madja says there's no fix for the pain but darkness and sleep."

Cassian's stomach twists so terribly he thinks he might puke, too. In the midst of attempting to instill resilience, he's understanding that he knows nothing of this kind of pain. This is something different, something that cannot be conquered in the same way as emotional pain, as every day aches and injuries. You are a soldier in a battle he has no strategy for.

He may understand the concept of emotional resilience, of getting back up and into the training ring when you don't want to. But this is different.

The final blow, the thing that makes him want to cower and hide, is meeting his brother's eyes. Seeing the fire there transports him back in time, sending flashes of a smaller Azriel pushing himself too hard, determined to show the world that he'd never be less because of the damage to his hands. Fighting against words far too similar to the ones his own brother had spouted to you this morning, desperate to become strong enough that no one would ever doubt his pain and live.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

It was not a surprise that Cassian found himself in Rhysand's office later, confessing how thoroughly he'd fucked up, desperate for a little direction in how to fix this mess.

"It has to be their choice," Rhysand is saying, eyes meeting Cassian's over his glass.

Cassian's mouth opens and closes as he tries to conjure a response. He knows that. Of course he knows that. But apparently, his brain had not wrapped around how far that concept might go.

Cassian let out a grunt as he sat back in his chair, arms crossed. Rhysand knew he didn't have to push any further, he recognized the conflict in his brother's eyes. So he sat with him, quiet, while he processed.

"Do you want to know what it feels like?" He broke the since after a while, as the idea came to him.

"What?" Cassian blinked, startled from his thoughts.

"A migraine," Rhys explained, "Do you want to know what it feels like?"

Cassian frowned, studying his brother's expression for anything resembling amusement, but there was none. So he nods.

Not even a full second later, his skull is attacked with throbbing pain, deep in the base of his neck. He hadn't even noticed the fae lights before, but now they overwhelm him, causing a dull pain to surface behind his eyes. Nausea curled up his throat, threatening ruthlessly.

"Oh gods," He leaned forward and clutched his head in his hands, finding that his limbs trembled under his own weight.

"Do you push yourself when you feel like this?" Rhysand asked softly, not taunting. Prompting.

"I don't really ever feel like this," Cassian grumbled out.

"Hm," Rhysand mused, his brows drawing together. He'd experienced episodes like these often, under the mountain. He knew that Azriel struggled with them through his teenage years, like his brain still struggled to process his senses outside of a dark cell.

Deep in thought, he only remembered to ease up on Cassian's mind when his brother whimpered.

"Some say pain cannot truly be described with language," Rhys says, gaze somewhere else as Cassian gulps down air. "And that your pain is one of the few things that is truly yours, that you can never share. Even if you manage to describe it, it will never be felt by anyone else."

"I thought she was just hungover," Cassian says, but he's not defending himself. Rhysand knows.

"What if she was, though?" He tilts his head to the side, watching his brother carefully.

And that is the thing that had begun to unfurl within Cassian as he stood surrounded by the priestesses he'd wronged. He understood that having true control of your body meant that dictating how pain is handled had to be yours, too. He understood that pushing someone to deal with pain in his own way was a violation in and of itself. He had stepped into the world that you had carefully balanced and re-built around your condition and dared to tell you that you may have done it wrong.

"Will she get better?" He asks, thinking of the agony he'd just experienced for a few short minutes. The same one that you'd been experiencing for three days, now.

"It's hard to say," Rhysand shrugs, "Madja says she will likely experience these off and on for the rest of her life, but she may have some periods of remission."

He tilts his head at his brother again, "You know that a majority of the priestesses have an invisible disability of similar kinds, right? They won't get better. They will be in pain every day until they die."

Rhysand sighs, thinking of the hundreds - possibly thousands - of tins of salve that Azriel has gone through, numbing the pain of his nerve damage. Trembling hands hidden in black gloves, tucked into his body and away from the world. And that is the reason he's bothering telling Cassian of any of this. Otherwise, he might let him figure it out on his own.

"But the healers-" Cassian begins.

"Are there to help them cope with their emotional pain and trauma," Rhysand nods, "But some of them, a lot of them, were disabled as a result of what they went through and will never get better. Like Clotho.”

Oh.

It clicks in Cassian's mind, then. Who else Rhys meant. Who else Cassian had insulted. He had never barged into Azriel's room, insisting that he still train even when he could not flex his fingers without wincing, without trembling too hard to hold a glass of water. But he'd done it to you, in front of him. And that pinned his disbelief on Azriel all the same.

Azriel's pain, your pain, were enemies that neither of you could defeat. And here he was, shoving a sword into your hands, and insisting that you try.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

A soft knock sounds against your door, so quiet you almost don't hear it. You stare at it, wondering if you should pretend that you didn't. But then the knob turns slowly and it opens just a crack, and a soft voice is saying into the darkness,

"Hey, it's Azriel. Can I come in?"

Your breath catches in your throat, and you watch his shadows dancing back and forth through the thin wedge of light he's letting in.

"Sure," You say, moving quickly to smooth your rumpled clothes and tangled hair before he steps in. You're not exactly sure what he thinks of you after this morning.

He steps inside and closes the door behind him. His eyes seem to glow in the darkness, an amber-honey color, and somehow you can still see his shadows, like they're even darker than your room with no light.

"I just wanted to check on you," He says, crouching down beside your bed so you don't have to sit up.

"I'm okay," You say, still getting over the surprise of the Shadowsinger in your space. It's true, though, you suppose. You're used to all of your other symptoms by now, and your heart hurts worse than your head.

"He's an idiot sometimes," Azriel says, basically spits. A smile begins to spread on your face so he continues, “Like, sometimes he's just an asshole, straight up. But this time, believe it or not, I think he actually meant well and was just an idiot.”

“I know,” You give him a sad smile and all of the anger melts from his face.

“I think he went to buy flowers if that makes you feel any better,” He sighs. You know he's just as mad at Cassian as you are, maybe even more mad. But he still can't help vouching for him. It's definitely going to take more than flowers to forgive him, but it's a good start. You also appreciate that Azriel has bothered to warn you ahead of time, in case you wanted to avoid Cassian's apology.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, so quietly. And you wonder who else has earned this tenderness from him.

“It's not too bad right now,” you say truthfully, though you know that sitting up or going outside might be pushing your luck.

“Still hurts?”

“Yeah. Still hurts.”

He nods. “I can try something that helps me, sometimes.”

You search his eyes for a moment, then nod.

“Can I touch your face?” He asks, almost a whisper.

Your heart leaps into your throat and you fight to keep your face neutral as you nod again, no idea what he's planning to do with you.

Slowly, leaving enough time for you to stop him, he reaches out. He's not wearing gloves, like usual, and in the dark you can just barely make out the uneven silhouette of his dimpled, scarred hands.

His fingers land gently on your forehead, and he presses his thumb between your brows. Gently at first, and then harder, circling a tender point under your skin. It makes the pain in your head sharper, and you let out a hiss.

“I know,” He says, “Bear with me a minute.”

You close your eyes, biting back a whimper, but after a moment the pain begins to ease. He keeps going for a few minutes and you feel your whole body relax, pain free for the first time in days.

You don't realize how much you've leaned into his touch until he gently pulls away and you find your head falling forward with him.

“What is that?” You open your eyes and blink at him.

“A pressure point,” He grins, and it almost looks like he's blushing.

“That's magical,” you say. You hesitate for a moment, and then, “you can sit on the bed if you want.”

Azriel smiles and straightens, and you move your pillow to the side to make space for him. He slides off his boots and sits on the bed next to you, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. You place your pillow next to his lap and settle back into it.

“Thank you,” You say, your body feeling lighter than it has in days.

“Of course,” he says.

A silence settles, but it's not uncomfortable. There's something in it that you understand. He's just keeping you company. Here to sit with you in your pain.

It's easy to relax in his presence, between his calm aura and the pain relief he's offered you. And you find yourself spilling the question that's been circling though your mind since this morning.

“What if I can't fight, someday? What if I can't be a Valkyrie anymore?”

Azriel stills beside you. It's a long moment before he says anything. You're tense beside him, and it makes you flinch when he brings his hand so gently to rest on your head. Not moving, just resting.

“First,” He says, in the same soft voice, “You'll always be a Valkyrie. Because you cut the ribbon. Because you sisters will never let you go. And because I know for a fact that the Valkyries did not strip their warriors of their title if they became disabled by an illness or an injury.”

“Really?” You breathe.

“Mhm,” He hums in affirmation. You forget sometimes that he knows the Valkyries from more than history books.

“And second,” His voice drops lower, like he's sharing a secret with you. His hand moves, fingers slipping gingerly through your hair. And it makes you realize that he came here with his hands uncovered as an offer of solidarity. Combing his scarred fingers through your hair, he is offering you vulnerability, like recompense for what you bared this morning. A trade. A truce.

“If you cannot fight,” He continues, “Then you will show the world that a formidable woman can be made from more than fighting skills. You will still be - will always be - something incredible.”

Tears prickle at your eyes, form a lump in your throat. You reach up to grasp his hand, the only thank you that you can manage in the moment, and he lets you.

There's another silence, as he holds your hand in the dark.

“Who helps you?” You ask, turning to look up at him. He watches your eyebrows knit together, so serious, and he swallows a smile.

“What do you mean?” He says.

You bring one finger up to tap the space between his own eyebrows.

“With your pain? Who helps you like you helped me?”

“Um,” He shrugs, “Sometimes Rhys if he has time. Otherwise, no one.”

That's what you thought, but it still makes your heart twist in your chest. It takes a deep breath before you have the courage to say the next words out loud.

“You should tell me next time you're in pain. And I'll help.”

Azriel stares back at you, something bewildered in his eyes. Because he sees your suggestion for what it is. The same thing he offered you. A trade. A truce.

A beginning.

“Yes,” He whispers into the dark, and his hand closes around yours. “I will.”

[yanmuffins]

waiter! waiter! more phineas and ferb reader pls!

I wonder how the batfam would react once they catch reader inventions on a random tuesday, like, "hm, what a nice day to look out on the window and HOLY SHIT WHY IS THERE A GIANT ROBOT SPITING FIRE WHILE RIDING A ROLLERCOASTER IN MY BACKYARD???"

the events that would follow this incident would be funny and exasperating, me thinks

also, wouldn't it be funnier if Perry the Platypus was part of the JL? and like, no one knows his identity but Superman, and neither of them are willing to talk about it-

I know it would be very unlikely, since everyone there would have enough neurons to recognize a platypus with and without a hat, but for the sake of shit and giggles, just think of how funny that would be

welp, I needed to get that outta ma chest, I hope I at least made you laugh a little, because seriously this is one of the best ideas I've seen in this tag and I can't stop thinking and giggling about it

Stay well!

context.

first: i was not expecting this concept to be so popular!! the responses i've gotten from everyone are so amazing!!  ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) thank you for the ask, anon!! it always makes my day.

i am formally announcing that i will be turning phineas and ferb reader into a fic now. it's too good a concept to pass up. something more light-hearted to work between the other fics i'm writing.

batfamily finding out about reader's whacky inventions would be an event. it so wholeheartedly shatters the image they had of reader to the point they just have to sit with what the hell just happened for a while before they even consider what to do about you next. still so many things that don't make sense. their newest case is how the fuck did we go this long without finding out (Y/N) has been building mechas in our backyard and why are those things always gone when it's convenient.

then the realizations just start dropping on them like an anvil on a looney tunes character. and they kinda feel like shit, cause how did they not notice? really puts into perspective how they've neglected you all this time. so many stunts you pulled right under their nose, on their backyard, their garage, throughout gotham and metropolis. ok, were out there being creative and amazing and you sure know how to spend the wayne family money, they'll give you that, but it was so irresponsible of you! who knows what could've gone wrong. you're not like them! you're a civilian with no training, the only regular teenager in the family, you're the last person who should be exposing themselves doing all that.

bruce goes off on you, screaming about how could you be so reckless, you did all of this behind his back– what? what do you mean he gave his permission? and he is floored, devastated, blood pressure up, when you remind him of every instance you dropped by his office with a document for him to sign or to ask for permission, with proof as you pull out every paper he put his signature without a second look.

and that, ladies and gentlemen, is when reader's dynamic with the batfam does a complete 180 and their little yandere antennae start going off. no more whacky cartoonish shenanigans. at least not without proper supervision. they know you're not a fan of this new arrangement, but you gotta understand they let you go unchecked for way too long! they'll drown you in family activities so you don't even have to worry about it. who wants to build a teleportation machine, anyway? just join them for family movie night.

as for perry, that is going to take them a while longer to figure out. bruce just can't stand another insane discovery, so when batman sees an intelligent platypus wearing a fedora and walking on two feet on justice league headquarters (if we're going by the idea that he's a part of JL), he's just going to think "my kid has a pet platypus. huh."

oh, consider:

dick: "damian, you knew all this time?! our sibling could've gotten into serious trouble! why didn't you tell us about this?"

damian: stares into the camera like he's in the office.

[il-miele-che-scrive]

Lando Norris and [Y/n] Wolff are an on-and-off thing, fans think they're all good after [Y/n] releases a song supposedly about Lando, but they forget he's not the only Brit on the grid.

username1 HE LAUGHS AT ALL MY JOKES

↳username2 AND HE SAYS I'M SO AMERICAN

username3 sorry but in which part is y/n american?

↳username1 her mother, Y/m/n Y/l/n, is American and Y/n spent most of her life in the US after Y/m/n and Toto divorced

username3 oooh good to know, thank you!!

username4 I'm so happy to know Y/n and Lando are still together after all

↳username5 But they were never official

username4 But it's obvious! They were seen on dates many times, hanging out around Monaco, not to mention every time Y/n is in the paddock she spends more time in the McLaren garage than Mercedes'

username6 my fav nepo baby <3

username7 damn Lando must be doing a good job lol

username8 Y/n finally released a love song, everybody thank Lando

username9 Weren't there rumours about them being over forever just during the winter break?

↳username10 Toto would find a way to get Lando kicked out of F1 if he ever broke Y/n's heart lmao

username9 What does Toto gotta do with McLaren?

username10 He's rich? Lol

username9 And? Stroll's daddy is rich as well yet he can't make idk Verstappen disappear lol rich doesn't mean he can do anything he wants

username11 Guys I have a bad feeling, we actually haven't seen them together in a long time , I'm afraid they might be actually broken up for good

↳username6 I wouldn't read too much into it, Y/n studies in Monaco so she isn't able to attend races right now

username11 You sure? Y/n hasn't made a single appearance since the season started

username6 The season started in the middle of her uni year lol you ever thought of that?

↳username7 this is literally a love song, how are we even wondering if they broke up? she wouldn't release this if they were done

username6 THIS!! I feel like this song is a confirmation from Y/n that all is good, maybe she was tired of people talking if they're broken up or not

username5 Then why don't they make it official?

username6 that's not a question i can answer

username12 "I'll go anywhere he goes" then why aren't you attending races miss girl? Education can wait

↳username2 lmao it literally can't wait

username13 "the books you read" ma'am, Lando looks like he hasn't touched a single book his whole life

↳username12 And it's not like he dresses that well either, his style is nothing special

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

y/n's texts with Lando

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

username1 All men are the same I swear

↳username2 nooo I swear there are good ones, but that's just not Lando

username3 excuse me sir, y/n has just written a love song about you

username4 NOOOO THE WAY HE PUT HIS HAND ON THE GIRL'S LOWER BACK

↳username1 Him and Y/n are done frfr 😭

username5 Do we know who the girl is?

↳f1gossip Not yet, but I'm sure we'll know in no time

username6 Wtf is wrong with you, it's not her fault Lando can't focus on one woman

username7 But there's no way she didn't know about him and Y/n ;)

username6 There is/was no "Lando and Y/n", they never confirmed a relationship

username8 He's just won in Miami, I was hoping they'd make it official after that :(

↳username9 Sameeee it would be so cool

↳username10 Literally same, it'd be perfect

username11 Lando Norris, you disappoint me again

↳username12 at this point Y/n must be used to that lmao poor girl I hope she finds someone better

username13 WHAT DOES TOTO SAY ABOUT IT?

↳username3 Whats he supposed to say? Y/n is a grown woman, stop treating her like a baby

username14 I swear if we see Y/n back again with him after THIS I'm gonna break some dishes

↳username15 Yeah I hope she'll find some self respect and finally leave his ass

username16 Y/n I beg you to leave him, the d can't be THAT fire

yn_wolff posted on instastory

landonorris replied to your story:

↳mind if i join?

yn_wolff:

yeah lol don't join

landonorris:

i was gonna sail today anyway, what if we do it together?

hey i think i see u thru my window who are u with?

yn_wolff:

with dad and susie

stalker ass creep don't get anywhere near me today

landonorris:

I see another man

who is he?

*seen*

y/n answer me who is he

is that russell?

fucking russell wtf is he doing there

he better keep his hands away from you

what the fuck why are u hugging him

yn_wolff:

i'm hugging george and I'll do something worse if you don't stop with ur stalker shit

landonorris:

what the fuck do you mean y/n

yn_wolff:

don't worry, I'm sure that blonde girl would love to give you a hug, you should go see her

landonorris:

she's just a friend

y/n you're mine

she doesn't mean shit to me

don't show my texts to russell

yn_wolff:

Hello it's George, stop texting my girlfriend or we'll have to tell Toto

landonorris:

girlfriend?

username1 Right after? The Lando thing was yesterday

↳f1gossip Yeah, and this was this morning

username2 Whats Y/n doin with George? 🤨

↳username3 in case you forgot she's y/n WOLFF, the daughter of Mercedes' boss which GR drives for

username4 After seeing Y/n's story I hoped she's finally spending some time with Lando but...

↳username5 Have u seen what Lando posted? 😂

username4 What did he post?

username5 Oh apparently he deleted it already lol it was a story

username5 Anyway he posted like a lowkey thirst trap pic and the music he added was Tumblr girls by g eazy lmao

username4 Boohoo consequences of his own actions catching up

username5 Yeahh and he especially chose the verse that goes like "fucking off and on, always stop and go, probably got someone, choose not to know"

username6 Guys, I say we take in consideration the possibility of 'so american' being about George

landonorris Monaco weekend 🇲🇨☀

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username1 Why do I feel like he posted this just so people think Y/n was there with him even though there's not a single pic of her? 😂

↳username2 Bro why he want her when he can't have her anymore?

username3 get over it, it's your fault

username4 I feel like he's tryna say "Hey guys look, Y/n took these pics" but why would we believe it 💀

↳username1 Exactly!! We all KNOW she most likely spent the day with George

username5 Now all i think about when i see Lando is the story he deleted 😭

↳username6 totally hahah he literally called Y/n a bitch but also admitted that he can't help wanting other girls

username7 Wait when did this happen? When did he say that?

username6 he never said that, it's lyrics of a song he posted but quickly deleted

username5 He immediately regretted hahah

username8 @/maxfewtrell Tell Lando to behave, why are you even helping him with this bullshit?

username9 It's too late, you had your chance FOR HALF A YEAR and still chose to lead Y/n on, now she got someone else and you're being petty

↳username10 She let him lead her on for half a year? Damn it he should pay for her therapy

username9 I feel like she really hoped she can change him but realized "if you can't change the man, change the man"

username10 Very accurate lmao

username11 Guys, I believe Y/n and Lando were a thing for much more time than half a year, it was going on for at least a year, they were just very secretive about it

username9 Well, good for her to finally get out of this shit, she deserves so much better and I hope George will give her that

username1 I bet Toto loves his new son in law

↳username2 He has to be very relieved to know Y/n chose George eventually

username3 We still don't know if they're dating, remember George drives for Mercedes

username4 I really hope Lando is crying rn

username5 Now Lando for sure can't trick us into thinking Y/n was with him lmao

username6 I love George for saving Y/n

username7 I love them, they're all so old money, Y/n and George are a great match

username8 MY DELULU IS BECOMING TRULULU

username9 This is our confirmation that so american is about George

username10 I feel like Y/n upgraded at some point but at one point also downgraded

↳username2 Let's not talk about it, we should be happy for her and George, at least he won't treat her like an option

username11 George is literally THE MAN for Y/n, I'm so glad she finally realized that

↳username12 Chill, let's not assume stuff before we have any statement from them, we all know where assuming can get us

username13 This is my old money dream

username14 HEAR ME OUT but I'd actually love to see George and Y/n get married one day

↳username12 THIS is exactly where assuming can get us

yn_wolff Oh you'll like him, he's really kind andhe's funny like you sometimes, and I found someone I really like maybe for the first time

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username1 I'm so happy for them I'm gonna cry

lewishamilton Invite me next time!

↳georgerussell63 Toto said it was family only, I'm sorry, Lewis!

↳yn_wolff Ask Ferrari to invite you wtf

username1 lmao only Y/n Wolff can talk to a 7 times world champion like that

username2 YESSSS IT'S OFFICIAL

↳username1 Y/n is officially free from Lando!!

username3 I love the vibes, I love the fact that Y/n is dating a driver from her dad's team, I love the fact that Toto accepts it

↳username4 He must've been going CRAZY when Y/n had the situationship with Lando

username3 Absolutely and I think we all know about Toto's anger issues lol

susie_wolff 💝

↳yn_wolff 🩷

ymn_yln I hope George knows he's welcome in America too 😊

↳yn_wolff Of course!! We have a plane on Friday❤️

↳georgerussell63 I wanted to take Y/n to Miami so we can visit after the GP, but she refused 😔

yn_wolff Shut up I have uni!!

georgerussell63 It can't be more important than me meeting your mum

lilymhe Beautiful couple 😚

↳yn_wolff @/susie_wolff it's about you and dad💕

lilymhe Might as well be 😂

username3 Susie and Toto literally are Y/n and George in like 20 years lmao

alex_albon Finally, no more secrets

↳username2 ALBONO KNEW?

username4 Phew I can't imagine how much stress it was for him 😂

username5 George just MIGHT be the guy which so american is about...

username6 Something about this relationship makes me feel so at peace and I don't even know them in person

charles_leclerc Someone check on Lando😂

↳yn_wolff Charles 💀

username5 Is he wrong tho

username7 I laughed harder than I should've

↳username8 Betting all my money he's regretting all his actions

username9 As he should tbh imagine leading sb on for about a year, people who do this are evil

username8 Yeah, that was so wrong of him

username10 No but I need to know what books George reads tho

landonorris 👍

↳yn_wolff Stalker ass you don't even follow me

↳username4 THE AUDACITY

landonorris I hope you'll have fun while it lasts

↳yn_wolff YOU'RE the one to speak about lasting

↳georgerussell63 Not your place to worry about it🙂

username5 THE EMOJI MAKES IT SO FUNNY FOR NO REASON

username1 "THE WAY YOU DRESS, THE BOOKS YOU READ" he dresses well✅ he looks like he reads✅

username2 He's the perfect man for Y/n frfr

username3 I'm so happy that it's not about Lando after all, I was like girl he's treating you like shit and you write a love song??

username4 I've been waiting for it for YEARS

username5 So they had a thing for no longer than since the end of winter break and already made it official

↳username2 Something Lando couldn't do for almost a whole ass year lmao

username6 But have y'all noticed how obsessed with Y/n Lando is suddenly?

↳username1 of course he is, that's how it works, he's been rejected so his fragile ego is hurt

username3 He's even liking fans' edits of Y/n😭man is manifesting hard but I doubt anything can help him

username7 Good to know George's hands are warmer than hell, they don't look like it

username8 Girlie deserved a man who doesn't have commitment issues aka is a real man, I'm glad she got him

username9 Y'all think Lando reads Y/n x reader fanfics?👀

↳username1 Totally

↳username2 I can imagine it

↳username3 He'll do it until his delulu becomes trululu (it'll never happen🔥)

username10 I'll laugh so hard if now Lando will now stop fooling around with other girls 😂

username11 Can't wait for a whole album full of love songs about him

↳username12 I don't think we'll have to wait for long